Adversity Breeds Excellence
by BeeeTeee
Summary: Thrown into a war he is clearly not prepared for, Harry, spurred to advance his magical abilities by the tragic events following the closure of his fourth year, takes on old enemies with new friends at his back. Summer of Fifth year beginning after the third task. Detailed magical combat.
1. Chapter 1

**Revised: 6/14/2019**

 **AN: Hey there, thanks for checking out my story. There is a slight change to the canon universe in this fic. Assume the ages of all characters are four years more than cannon. This means entry to Hogwarts is fifteen, the trace is removed at twenty-one, Harry is eighteen at this point in the story, while Tonks and Fleur are twenty four and twenty-one respectively.** **Anything else that is not specifically stated, you may assume** **occurred** **the same as canon. That being said, enjoy the story!**

The violent spinning sensation of the portkey finally came to a stop and Harry found himself sprawling on solid ground once again. The young wizard heaved in a desperate attempt to fill his lungs with air.

His last-ditch bid for freedom had actually _worked_?

Finally regaining his breath, Harry tilted his head up slowly, fearing his brief moment of reprieve was nothing but a trick by a sadistic dark lord merely to prolong his suffering. But where he expected to see the hate filled slits of the recently reincarnated Dark Lord, Harry found himself surrounded by an ecstatic crowd, exultant in their ignorance of the events that had occurred in the graveyard just moments ago.

Harry, with the imprint of a bombardment of deadly curses still seared on his retinas, staggered to his feet noting Cedric's lifeless body lying next to him with a pang of guilt.

There would be time to deal with _that_ loss in time, but more important was the information on _Harry_ was privy to. He'd have to fix that…

Harry searched the crowd for the brilliant blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore, knowing the headmaster needed to be the first to receive his message. Harry could feel his consciousness slipping as he finally laid eyes on the wizened headmaster rushing towards him, the concern plastered on his face clashing with the euphoria of the surrounding crowd.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry managed through strained breaths, "He's back…Voldemort's returned…" The look of muted horror on Dumbledore's went unnoticed to Harry as he finally surrendered to his exhaustion and collapsed next to the still form… _corpse,_ of Cedric Diggory.

By this point some of the spectators took noticed that all was not well on the pitch. The tumultuous cheers quieted to a murmur as more and more wizards noticed with mounting dread that the two champions returned by the Triwizard Cup weren't moving, one collapsed with exhaustion, and the other lifeless, with blank staring eyes. Ministry officials and Aurors rushed onto the field trying to contain the clamor of the crowd while Dumbledore merely stood over the two Hogwarts champions planning his next move to combat the untimely return of the dark lord.

oooOoOoOooo

"Minervra, please see to the delivery of Harry as well as Mr. Diggery to Poppy if you please." Dumbledore said urgently to his Deputy, giving priority to his two immobile students over dealing with the information imparted by the young Potter. The wise professor watched as the two immobile bodies of two of his students were levitated towards the castle, parting the surrounding crowd. Among the large huddle of witches and wizards was Alastor Moody.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, Albus failed to notice his old acquaintance's uncharacteristic smirk as he slipped away and silently made his way back to the castle. Albus spared Amos Diggory a sympathetic glance as the man raced after the dead body of his son before steeling himself for what was obviously going to be one of the most trying nights of his life.

Before the powerful wizard could even begin to think about combating the newly revived Voldemort, he would have to convince the ministry of his return, and considering Fudge would argue that owls were flightless birds if only to oppose Dumbledore, he highly doubted the stubborn minister would support his claim based on the word of a wizard barely into adulthood, even if he _was_ "the boy who lived."

He strode over to the blustering Minister, steeling himself in preparation for the inevitable argument that would most likely ensue.

oooOoOoOooo

The crisp white curtains of the Hospital Wing matched the bedding of the two orderly rows of beds along both sides of the room while sunlight streamed through the windows completing the particularly sterile feel of the room.

The only movement among a collection of still patients was the resident Medi-Witch, Madam Pomfrey bustling through her cabinets searching for the appropriate dosages to treat her three most recent patients. The distinct deep burgundy of the flasks clinking between the matron's dexterous fingers, could be identified as blood replenishers to one familiar with common medical brews.

Or in the case of Harry himself, he'd spent enough time horizontal in the Hospital wing to have memorized the labels subconciously.

True to its legacy, the Triwizard Tournament had hospitalized 3 of its combatants and taken one life. The bed furthest from the door was claimed by Harry, unruly black mess of hair plastered in a disarray on his forehead, while to his left lay Fleur Delacour, her radiance present even while slumbering peacefully. The third bed was occupied by the final living champion, Victor Krum, most likely dosed heavily with Dreamless sleep.

Those under its influence were always so unnaturally still… Gone was the scowl worn since arriving in early fall of the previous year, hard features relaxed for once into a visage displaying an artificial serenity.

Harry's brilliant green eyes began to open in response to the growing glare of the sun. With a start he sat up, looking around noticing a blurry form sitting next to his bed. He reached for his glasses where he assumed they would be on the bedside table, and succeeding in his search, took in the reassuring face of the Headmaster smiling back at him as the teen tried to regain his bearings.

"Relax Harry, you are no longer in any danger. At least for the moment you are safe back in the castle." Came the placating voice of the headmaster.

"Professor! The Cup—it was a portkey- Voldemort's back. There was a ritual in the graveyard an—"

"Harry… it is alright, perhaps we should slow down and start from the beginning." Albus cut in, halting the events spewing from Harry's mouth in a jumble. Harry took a moment to catch his breath as flashes of memory raced through his head.

Recanting his tale once again, he relayed the night of the 3rd task to his headmaster starting with his discovery of Fleur, Cedric and Krum in the maze. Harry noted how he interrupted Fleur being held under the cruciatus by an imperioed Krum but managed to nail the Durmstrang champion with a body bind, the familiar green glow fading from Krum's wand tip as he hit the ground.

Dumbledore sat in contemplation, but with a nod of his head indicated to continue. Harry narrated how after sending emergency sparks to indicate the locations of the downed champions, he continued with Cedric to the cup only to transported to a graveyard. He recalled the rasping voice that commanded the death of his fellow champion. " _Kill the spare_." Such a brief command attested to how insignificant Cedric was to the dark lord's machinations. To Tom Riddle, Cedric was nothing, insignificant, _the spare_. Once again stirring from his thoughts, Harry resumed the story of being strapped to a gravestone like some sort of grotesque crucifixion. He paused.

"It's like he was barely human anymore," reflected Harry, remembering the waxy grey skin covering the bald snake-like skull with nothing more than slits for nostrils. But beyond all else, he recalled the cold, calculating scarlet irises of the man who once waged the most gruesome magical civil war since Grindewald's time.

"Voldemort pressed Wormtail's mark, thanking him for serving him well, while simultaneously calling his remaining death eaters to the clearing" Harry continued. "I don't remember all of their names but there had to be at least fifteen of them, all in black cloaks and white masks. He turned back to me after addressing his followers and I could _feel_ how excited he was," Harry brushed his scar unconsciously at the phantom pain. "He… he made me bow to him like some sort of twisted puppet. I… He was going to kill me Professor, Even after returning my wand to me I've never felt so helpless in my life."

Dumbledore nodded in sympathy. "Despite the many cruel things Lord Voldemort has done in his lifetime he was a brilliant and powerful wizard Harry, never forget that."

As he continued to tell his tale, Harry was immersed in the experience of facing the terrible power commanded by the Dark Lord.

 _The sheer oppression and dominance of the dark lord's magic left a bitter taste in his mouth. A respectively powerful shield held for mere seconds under the barrage of curses launched from the Dark Lord's wand._

 _Harry abandoned his shield to dive behind a headstone for cover, only for it to be transfigured into a stone serpent, animated into striking the location he had occupied moments earlier. Diving behind another headstone, holding in a wince from the various lacerations that were the consequence of the sloppy dodge, Harry was once again pinned by a string of curses cast at almost inhuman speeds from Voldemort's ivory-colored wand._

 _A dark grey curse pulsing with static energy blasted the headstone to pieces which peppered him in shrapnel opening more tears in his right shoulder and upper arm. The Dark Lord strolled towards the downed student, casually pursuing him as if this wasn't a matter of life and death._

 _Granted, to Riddle it really wasn't; he hasn't used any magic more powerful that something Harry could learn in school. This was simply a show of the vast gap in skill._

 _The spindly figure of the newly reincarnated wizard scoffed as if to say 'Is that all?' before gesturing casually with his off hand, wandlessly banishing the fallen wizard into the tomb he was originally tied to. A brief gesture of the Dark Lord's wand was all it took for the Macabre grim reaper to be brought to life once more, the personified statue once again restraining Harry in a bastardized recreation of the crucifix._

 _Perhaps he too would be reincarnated. Harry smiled grimly at the thought._

 _"Look at you! Nothing but a child compared to the might of Lord Voldemort!" came the sibilant whisper of Riddle as he strolled up to the restrained form of harry once again held against a massive tombstone. The abused triwizard champion stared defiantly into the dark lord's eyes, refusing to give Riddle the satisfaction of a response. With a harsh slash in an L-shaped motion of his wand Voldemort uttered his spell._

 _"Crucio." The word was spoken quietly, contrasting jarringly with the boy's resulting screams echoing into the blackness of the night, as well as the belligerent heckling from the depraved men and women surrounding the spectacle. Lifting the curse the dark lord once again released the stone guardian holding him flush with the stone and addressed the young wizard._

 _"Stand up_ boy! _I'll give you the honor of dying on your feet! After all, Voldemort is a merciful lord." Harry's only response to the sycophantic laughter of the surrounding crowd was to slowly regain his footing, limbs quivering from the aftershock of the grievous damage dealt to his body from the cruciatus curse._

 _Voldemort's scornful sneer and silence was indicative of what came next—_

 _"Avada Kedavra."_

 _Harry raised his wand, letting his magic flow as he uttered the first spell that came to mind._

"If it wasn't for my parents… he would have killed me then and there sir," Harry finished demurely.

"Your parents, what do you mean Harry?" Dumbledore questioned gently.

Harry then finished with the description of how Voldemort and his wand connected after the boy attempted to disarm him and the resulting appearance of his parents. Dumbledore informed him of the instance Priori Incantatem that can occur when wands with cores of the same magical creature meet and how Harry's Parents would have been some of the most recent people to fall to the Dark Lord's wand.

"Professor…" Harry began, "I have to be better… I know you believe that I should be enjoying my childhood, professor, but I think that ship has pretty much sailed sir. You expect me to trust your staff to be there to protect me from Voldemort but… you weren't _there_ that night!" he finished with resolve.

A voice in the back of his mind reminded Harry that the headmaster had over a century of experience and had likely been in many situations more dangerous than his _own_ experience, but still felt justified making his point. "I have to get stronger so that the next time he comes to attack those I care about I can protect them! I never want to feel as helpless as I did that night ever again. Expelliarmus won't be the first spell on my mind the next time he comes after me" Harry finished, the last thought more to himself.

Dumbledore gazed back at him barely hiding a wince at the entirely true accusation before replying. "Harry, I believe I owe you an apology. It seems all my decisions concerning yourself end up being mistakes, and I will endeavor to be more diligent in my duty," Harry's protest died on his lips as the Wise headmaster continued—"however, there is no harm in bettering oneself in order to protect one's loved ones. Though I _will_ warn you to not lose sight of your reasons for seeking power, else you might be consumed by hatred. I can think of another boy who once sought power for his own protection." He finished with a knowing stare.

"I understand sir." Came Harry's reply, not entirely convinced at the Headmaster's ability to protect him but willing to let the matter drop for the moment. Regardless of the headmaster's belief in his own ability to keep Harry safe from harm, the boy refused to passively accept his fate.

Today would be the last day he settled for mediocrity.

Harry would _thrive_ in the face of Adversity

"Very well, Harry, I believe we _both_ have much to do in the coming months, but much of that can wait until you've fully recovered" Dumbledore ended cheerily as he rose to leave the Hospital Wing. "Poppy will have my head if I bother her patients for longer than strictly necessary, and I believe I still have an irate Minister to deal with, until next time Mr. Potter." Harry noted the shift from friend to headmaster as he bid Dumbledore farewell, turning his thoughts back to his newfound conviction, already planning to improve his overall combat ability in preparation for the impending conflict.

"Hmm… I might take a page out of Hermione's book and hit the Library tomorrow," he mused quietly.

"You know 'zey say talking to one's self is the first sign of insanity," replied a _lilting_ feminine voice from beside him.

Craning his head to the side without tugging at his bandages took some effort, but he eventually managed. Harry paused, taking in Fleur's almost ethereal appearance. She lay propped up on one elbow, her silvery-blonde hair cascading over her shoulder with a small smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. Despite being nearly unaffected by all but the strongest of her veela aura, her natural beauty gave Harry pause before he answered with a grin.

"I _am_ talking to you, aren't I?" The French witch merely tilted her head, acknowledging his point, but she seemed distracted by something. Harry simply raised an eyebrow at her lack of focus, inferring the question the French witch really wanted to ask him. "Just say it." Harry probed lightly, "I promise not to be upset."

Her smile fell a bit as she relented, asking quietly, "Is what you said before really true…'ze Dark Lord? 'e is back?" Harry noted how her voice didn't waver as she spoke of the infamous wizard. "I can't really imagine what that must have been like… what you said happened in the graveyard." She shuddered in sympathy.

Not really bothered by the fact that she had overheard his conversation with Dumbledore, Harry confirmed his experience in the maze. As far as he was concerned, the sooner the public was exposed to the truth the better. At least if they were informed then they could respond in a completely rational manner.

 _Right…._

"If your story is true, Harry, 'zen it seems I find myself even further in your debt 'zan before," she said gently as her face lit up with her first genuine smile since she woke up. "I 'ave 'eard rumors of your so called 'saving people 'zing' on occasion but I had no idea it had 'zis much truth to it." The wry grin that stole across her features was a refreshing change from her normally stoic attitude.

Her tone turned serious once more, "'Zank you, 'Arry, I don't know 'ow I can even 'zank you enough, boz' my sister and I owe you our lives."

"Really, it's no problem," he replied evenly, "but I'd like it if you would consider me a friend, a…at least until you have to leave with the rest of your school." he finished with a slight smile.

" _Oui_ ," came Fleur's quiet reply as she lay back, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

Harry sat in his cot for a couple seconds before speaking again.

"I feel like I should have walked away after saying that, but I'm still exhausted and bed ridden so that's not really an option huh?" They glanced at each other from their prone positions before breaking into a fit of childish giggles. He could feel the tension of the past several months slowly leaving his body as he listened to the musical sound of Fleur's laughter. Perhaps they were really on to something with encouraging international relations…


	2. Chapter 2

**Revised: 6/14/2019**

 **AN: Hi everyone, thanks for all the favs and follows, I've been a lurker on this site for a few years and finally decided to try my hand at writing something for a change. Any criticism is welcome as I haven't done anything like this before and definitely** ** _will_** **make mistakes. Two things to note for now. 1. Assume the third task took place on June 1** **st** **instead of the 23** **rd** **, this is just to give me a couple weeks before the end of term. 2. Harry passing out on return from the graveyard throws off the timeline a bit with Moody, this** ** _will_** **be resolved later. Other than that everything is canon unless specifically stated or implied. Enjoy the Chapter!**

Despite the tragic events of the 3rd task, and the resulting chaos both within Hogwarts and the politics of Wizarding Britain as a whole, Harry found himself surprisingly level headed.

As soon as he was deemed fit to leave the Hospital Wing by Madam Pomfrey, he immersed himself into his work, both seeking to improve the aspects of magic he excelled in as well as furthering his knowledge in those he didn't.

For the next couple of days Harry spent the majority of his time researching practical ways to improve his skills in magical combat. Despite having many extremely competent teachers at Hogwarts in the base subjects that contributed to fighting with magic, there was no instruction in applying those subjects in an actual confrontation. That side of Hogwarts education was normally delegated to Defense against the Dark Arts, and even then, primarily in NEWT years.

Harry had been graced with more than a couple "unique" defense professors over the years, including Quirinus Quirrel, hosting a shade of Lord Voldemort. A fraud and overall narcissist Gilderoy Lockhart, Remus Lupin who, although extremely cordial and a competent teacher, was still a werewolf that ended up running loose on the grounds fully transformed due to negligence. Even _this_ year, Hogwarts had been graced with a paranoid ex-Auror whose overly suspicious disposition and tendency to fling curses at the slightest provocation were more of a danger to the students than the man's enemies.

To be perfectly honest, Harry still had his doubts about Moody. There was something distinctly _off_ about the man. Regardless, the school lacked any formal guidance for learning combat, despite having many competent instructors available—hell the Weasley twins had mentioned that Flitwick was a pro-circuit duelist in his prime. Harry had his work cut out for him to say the least.

Taking full advantage of his exemption from all classes and end of the year exams due to his participation in the Ministry's death-Tournament, he began compiling a list of texts covering subjects as ridged as formal dueling etiquette to more practical underhanded tactics that could be used in a bind.

Making use of full access to the Library's restricted section as a Hogwarts champion, Harry had discovered several tomes that referenced combat magic that by ministry standards would be considered illegal to use for the majority of citizens.

Hermione would probably know the exact laws much better than he, but as far as Harry understood, those not included in this restriction were magicals belonging to the upper echelons of the ministry. Aurors and certain department heads would be the most likely. It would make sense, considering the dangerous nature of their jobs.

By that logic was it so unreasonable for Harry to learn such magic himself?

For many days after the completion of the 3rd task the students of Hogwarts would find Harry holed up in a corner of the library, surrounded by stacks of weathered tomes, many of which had faded with age. On one such day Harry sat alone pondering why the magic he was researching was restricted in Wizarding Britain more than any other magical nation. His thoughts were interrupted by the thud of a bookbag hitting his tabletop. The young wizard glanced up to see his first two friends joining him at his table.

"How're ya' doing Harry? it wouldn't be Hogwarts without some excitement at the end of term right, mate?" Ron's joke fell flat, but both of their smiles didn't reach their eyes, revealing his callous words were simply a front. Harry peered at his two friends over his stack of books, noting that neither of them would keep eye contact for more than a split second.

What could be eating at them so much? It was curious enough that they hadn't visited him in the hospital wing, but now they could barely look him in the eye...

Were they having second thoughts about being seen with him? Harry would have thought being friends for so long they would know better than anyone what kind of danger that attention would bring. With the Dark Lord having truly returned, could he really blame them for their hesitance?

Showing up with an upperclassman's corpse couldn't have endeared him to many people, despite holding none of the blame. He could only imagine what kind of eyes Cho would look at him with now. A few months back and the thought would be devastating, but Harry found that he had other things on his mind these days.

"Why are you holed up in the library mate? You were lucky enough to not have to sit exams, might as well take advantage of it, right? You're turning into another Hermione!" Ron's viewpoint was a bit presumptuous but not unexpected, and Hermione made her displeasure at the callous statement clear.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with my diligence for schoolwork _Ronald_ , and I'm glad to finally see Harry taking his schooling seriously! What _are_ you studying anyway, Harry? Ron does have a point, you don't _actually_ have to sit exams." Hermione's curiosity was poorly hidden, so he decided to indulge her.

"I'm revising the last four years I've spend here first, though that's only out of necessity. I need a stronger foundation if I'm going to be learning more lethal magic from now on." He held up some of the older tomes. "I can't expect to survive what's coming by wading along hoping for the best without actually putting some effort in."

Hermione, who after mentioning revising looked ready to join in, became a bit more wary having heard of the way the staff spoke about so called 'dark magic.' Ron however, having been raised with certain preconceptions was much more vocal in his response.

"Harry, what are you _talking_ about? You can't learn those spells, you'll go dark!" the redhead said in outrage.

"What does that mean, exactly?" Harry queried, having been curious on the subject for a while but not having a reason to pursue an answer. "Does what you call 'dark magic' _actually_ effect someone's judgement? Is it addictive? Does it actually harm the caster?"

"Well… you know… If you use dark magic you can never go back! _Everyone_ knowns that!" Ron sputtered not expecting Harry to refute his claim.

"Who is this 'everyone' Ron? 'Cus that certainly not something _I_ know. You gotta' understand that not all of us were raised in this world, some things that you take for granted are entirely new concepts for some of us." Harry stated logically, and while Ron looked skeptical, Hermione seem a bit more curious at the questions he was asking, her naturally analytical mind seeking answers to things she didn't understand. "Think about it, Hermione, in the nonmagical world if someone broke into your home you would be allowed to defend yourself with an equal show of force, right? How is this situation any different? The Death Eaters come in holding nothing back, if we want to survive, we have to do the same." He said impassionately.

"If you say so mate," said Ron, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

"If you think that's necessary Harry," Hermione said, finally speaking up with a sideways glance at Ron, wary of agreeing with Harry too much. She eyed the books of a darker nature in the pile with some distaste, "Just be careful, you _know_ that certain magic is forbidden for a reason, you wouldn't want to lose yourself to power you know." Ron nodded along with her the minute her reluctance to learn darker spells was mentioned.

Harry was slightly irritated by the lack of faith but dismissed it as a lost cause. It seemed despite Hermione's inquisitive nature, her trust in authority figures still held a bit too much sway in her decision making. Perhaps in time she would lose that tendency, however Ron's point of view was too ingrained in his upbringing to be altered by anything less than a huge upheaval in his life, and frankly, Harry hoped his friend never had to experience something so traumatic.

The duo stayed with him joking lightheartedly for a couple more minutes but soon made up an excuse to leave. _Oh, how the times had changed!_ Harry chuckled lightly at _Hermione, making an excuse to leave the library while he remain diligently studying_ _._ He watched their retreating forms with a pang of hurt, knowing and understanding why they were acting so distant, yet wounded by it all the same.

Harry's reluctance to pursue any more restricted magic due to his friends' reactions was curbed by an unexpected source.

"For someone exempt from finals 'zat sure is an impressive pile of books 'Arry Potter" said a teasing voice from over his shoulder.

Glancing up to meet two cerulean blue eyes he took in the dazzling form of Fleur Delacour looking down at him. A small smile played at her lips.

"Today, the Triwizard Cup! Tomorrow, the World!" Harry replied, grinning maniacally.

Her smile split into a crooked grin, further enhancing her beauty. "You know it's not very nice to brag after victory Monsieur Potter" she joked with a pout.

"My apologies, Miss Delacour, I forgot my manners, and if it makes any difference your ferocity in the tournament was only matched by your beauty while out of it." The younger boy responded keeping up the formal charade.

Now Fleur was not someone inexperienced in receiving compliments. The cheezy one-liners spouted by the weak-willed fools worshiping her beauty were merely a formality by this point. However, the witch was caught off guard by the compliment from the boy who had shown her nothing but respect since they'd met, even if she hadn't done quite the same.

It was more flattering more than she cared to admit.

Covering her blush, she quickly changed the topic. "So why are you _really_ surrounded in books, 'Arry? Something tells me world domination isn't high on your list of priorities, at least for now."

His mood darkening a bit from the playful banter between friends, Harry acquiesced, "Well, for the past couple of days I've been researching different ways wizards go about fighting…" He paused thoughtfully, before waving a hand over the table. " _These_ books specifically are from our library's restricted section, this has probably been my most productive year at Hogwarts, considering the tournament and all, but with everything that happened at the graveyard I have even more of an incentive to really get used to fighting other wizards, not just completing tasks." Fleur listened pensively while he finished his explanation. "Some of these spells are somewhat… _questionable_ in nature." Harry glanced at the silver haired girl as he finished his explanation, looking for the reactions he got out of Ron and Hermione but found none, instead he found Fleur staring back at him with a calculating look.

She finally spoke, "Why are you researching 'ze dark arts, 'Arry?" she asked simply. The look in her eyes told him that this was not an accusation, merely curiosity regarding his motives.

He took a moment to organize his thoughts before answering. "When I was in the graveyard with Voldemort," Harry began, recalling his brief skirmish with the dark lord, "he was firing spells off faster than I could even think to shield all of them."

Harry laughed humorlessly, as if a shield spell would have stopped the man…

"The gap in knowledge between us was too high... Before I can even think about improving my own ability and developing my own style I need to be aware of the magic he can use, even if it means mastering some forms of magic some would consider too dark for a student to know."

Fleur pondered his thought out answer before responding with a smile and nod, " _Je_ _suis d'accord_ _,_ _'Arry_ , it almost begs 'ze question as to why 'zis curriculum isn't taught to Hogwarts students in 'ze first place, you'd 'zink with a powerful dark lord on the rise, understanding dark curses and 'ow to counter 'zem would be on 'ze list of things to teach _non?_ I mean you even 'ave a subject literally called _Defense against 'ze Dark Arts,_ for Merlin's sake!"

The French witch's small rant in his defense brought a grin to Harry's face, and with it, a sense of acceptance and friendship he had thought would be lost along with his best friends. "Do you mind if I join you in your research? I might be of some 'elp from my extra years of schooling" The older witch said, interrupting his thoughts, "I will be pursuing a mastery in enchanting but may be able to help since dueling is taught in 6th and 7th years at Beauxbaton."

Harry smiled and motioned for her to join him, scooting over to make room. For the next couple of hours, the pair poured over books, often discussing different facets of magic that Harry had always been curious about. He found quickly that his new friend was a well of information and somehow managed to not be conceited about it. That was not all the pair spoke of, however, often trading tidbits of their experiences over the years back and forth between studying. Fleur's adoration of her younger sister was apparent the more she spoke of her and giving Harry a glimpse of the charming and caring girl behind the mask of beauty.

In response Harry shared some of his more lighthearted experiences from Hogwarts, his first experience riding a broom, playing Quidditch, meeting his godfather, (although he refrained from going into too much detail on that for obvious reasons.) They fell into easy conversation and lost track of time before being eventually kicked out of the Library at closing time by Madam Pince.

After walking the French witch to the entrance to the castle, they bid each other farewell.

As Harry watched Fleur's retreating form as she headed towards the Beauxbaton carriage for the night, he couldn't help but notice the slight sway in her hips; although his feelings for Fleur at the moment were purely platonic, Harry was not beyond admiring her alluring figure as she waltzed back to her carriage. The day had left Harry in a surprisingly good mood and he was for once looking forward to what the next day would bring.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** **This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling; this fanfiction is my own work and is intended purely for entertainment purposes and I in no way make a profit off of it.**

 **AN: I felt this would be a good time to write a disclaimer as there is an excerpt from "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" towards the end of the chapter, the reasoning behind it will be provided at the end of the chapter.**

 **Revised: 6/15/2019**

Exam season was coming to a close, and with it the end of the spring term. This of course, meant that the guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton would soon be returning to their respective countries.

For the past couple of weeks Harry and Fleur were near inseparable, which came as a surprise to the few Gryffindors who considered themselves close to the youngest Triwizard champion.

It's not that Harry had really gone out of his way to avoid any of his house, just that he'd spent the majority of the time either buried in books in the library or putting any particularly difficult spells he came across into practice out on the school grounds or in a secluded classroom. A quick notice-me-not charm on the door was enough to ensure his privacy. An experienced witch or wizard could dispel it in seconds, but it would stop the average student and warn him with enough time to not be interrupted while casting anything too dangerous.

When it came to practicing dueling Fleur's help was invaluable, and it became quickly apparent that the talented French witch was understating her abilities significantly when she claimed she could be of _some_ help. When Harry pointed out this fact, she shyly clarified her previous statement.

"Well, 'zere _are_ a couple 7th years that can duel me on even footing, but of 'ze rest, I'm 'ze best." Her words themselves were humble enough, but she couldn't quite hide the pride in her tone.

"Heh, so much for specializing in enchanting," Harry mumbled with grin.

"'Zat was not a lie 'Arry," she shot back quickly. "I didn't bring any'zing with me, per'aps sometime I could show you some of my work. I may not be a 'otshot seeker but I _'ave_ built my own broom, perhaps you will see when I return 'ome."

Harry expression was apparently reaction enough for Fleur to elaborate futher. The young witch's love for enchanting was quickly made apparent as she pontificated on the subject; it seemed like she could talk for hours on the intricacies of her craft.

However, Harry was even _more_ focused on the prospect of being able to see Fleur _after_ she left with the rest of her school. With the end of term coming up, he had been dreading having to leave the witch who he had grown so close to in such a short time.

"I would love that, although I can't exactly offer a warm family experience if you _do_ end up visiting me," remembering exactly _who_ his company for the summer was, "but I'd never refused your company."

She seemed to wonder what exactly he'd meant by his odd phrasing but to his relief dropped the matter for now. Fleur flashed a white smile and motioned for Harry to resume his practice. He was really starting to get the hang of the bludgeoning curses they'd been drilling lately.

Harry and Fleur had made use of an extremely handy variation of a standard dueling ward. The revised spell was aptly named a sparring ward, which, with the consent of both participants, would reduce the effectiveness of all spells cast within the area for as long as the ward held. With this, the potentially bone breaking bludgeoners would do no more than knock them down.

Harry, having improved both his casting speed and precision greatly in the past weeks sent a steady stream of lightweight bludgeoners across the field towards his French counterpart, making sure to practice his control through the amount of magic he pushed into each spell. Fleur, knowing only bludgeoners were being flung, effortlessly deflected them off to the sides of her unmoving figure. Putting in extra effort to block the spells fully would only be a waste in the long run.

According to the text _Modern Curses and their Counters_ , knowing the incoming spell would make it significantly easier to reflect or shield. Also, in the case of more lethal curses, knowing if it was even _possible_ to block a certain spell was crucial. Incidentally, this was the same text that Harry had gleaned the tip about magical output when applied to spells that had a quantifiable output.

In other words, a charm like the switching spell, which swapped the locations of any two objects within a certain area would be unaffected by overpowering it. On the other hand, an unrestrained _Incendio_ had the potential to produce a flame that could cause almost irreparable damage. However with proper control, one could safely light a cigar with the same spell.

Fleur had already been familiar with the concept and was a bit surprised that Hogwarts hadn't taught it yet by fourth year. Nevertheless, she once more proved how valuable her experience would be for Harry's own progress.

Harry began weaving medium power bludgeoners every third shot, forcing Fleur to adjust the strength of her counters. Deflecting a spell required a more isolated variation of a common _protego_ formed around the wand hand as the spell approaches, making technique even more important than simply the power of the shield. Taking advantage of this fact Harry threw in a high powered bludgeoner forcing Fleur to default back to a full bodied shield to avoid any damage.

"Ok, 'zat is enough, 'Arry," Fleur called across the clearing, "it still surprises me 'zat you 'ave taken to silent casting so prodigiously!" She said with a hint of pride.

Her praise, besides evoking a pride in himself that had been sorely lacking for most of his life, brought him back to remembering what spurred him to begin the practice in the first place.

It was only a few days after he'd gotten out of the hospital wing and set about on his personal studies.

Harry had nearly finished reviewing all the previous year's texts relating to combat magic and was finishing up the last practical spells on Flitwick's charms syllabus as Fleur watched on while lounged on a transfigured couch. They were currently in an abandoned classroom as the spells they were practicing didn't really require too much room. Harry, having practiced this spell from sunup to sundown for nearly a week earlier in the year, smirked confidently and summoned a pillow from under where Fleur's head was resting with a staccato " _accio"_ nearly upending the beautiful French witch from her perch on the couch.

" _Mon Dieu!_ What ze 'ell, 'Arry!" She shrieked as the boy in question tried and failed to muffle his laughter.

"I was just checking to make sure the spell still worked," he answered glancing to the side innocently, only to be smacked in the face by Fleur's other pillow. Harry sat stunned as his friend smirked right back at him.

"I see 'ze banishing charm works as intended as well! Good to know!" The only appropriate response to the situation was taken, and a magical pillow fight ensued with egregious use of levitation and banishing charms. The fight ended when Fleur duplicated her last pillow with a whispered _"gemino",_ and Harry was buried in a literal mountain of pillows.

A mumbled "I surrender" was all that was heard from the pile.

After vanishing the spare pillows and settling back side by side on the couch, Harry's hair a veritable bird's nest of down, Fleur breached a subject she had been considering for a while.

"'Arry?"

"Yeah what's up?"

"I remember you summoning your broom for 'ze first task correct?" She queried. Harry nodded.

"And it didn't come from 'ze crowd correct? It seemed to fly from somewhere in 'ze castle, 'zat's why it took so long, _non?"_

"Hmm, yeah, looking back on it now, it would have been significantly easier to give my firebolt to Hermione or someone in the crowd, so it was closer, but what's your point? Harry answered, not seeing where the witch was going with this line of questioning.

"Well I was just wondering, since it's obviously not due to a lack of power, why do you still speak 'ze incantation for a spell you have such obvious mastery over?"

Harry was dumbfounded.

It wasn't due to an ignorance of the ability of a witch or wizard to cast silently as he had obviously seen his professors do it on more than one occasion. It was more so that he had never considered himself to be at a level where it would be possible. "Huh. Well I'd never really considered it. Do you really think I could do that, Fleur?"

The witch answered with a nod, " _Oui._ Wiz' 'ze distance you summoned from, it would not surprise me if you 'ad 'ze potential to silently cast _most_ of your arsenal eventually, 'owever for right now 'zere is one spell you absolutely _need_ to be able to cast silently."

"Why's zat—I mean that?" Harry said, correcting himself. Embarrassed by his slip he continued, "I can guess it offers an advantage by your opponent being unable to predict the spells you are casting but what's so important that I learn right now?"

In lieu of a proper response Fleur stood and glided across the room before turning back to him and stating simply: "curse me."

"What?! Why?" came the panicked response.

"Too noble for your own good 'Arry," she said with a sigh, "Do you not 'zink I could handle it? Besides, I am _teaching_."

Still seeming reluctant Harry rose and began the motions of a harmless jelly legs jinx. "Tallen-"

" _Silencio_ " Fleur interrupted with a carefully aimed silencing charm before grinning at the younger champion. "Can you guess what spell you need to learn to learn wordlessly yet?" she questioned with a sarcastic lilt to her voice.

"…."

"hmmm? I didn't quite catch that," she taunted cupping one flawlessly manicured hand to her ear. Harry, having understood the message rolled his eyes and sat back down on the couch not quite hiding the smile at seeing the gorgeous witch loosen up a bit.

Having made her point Fleur simultaneously gave the answer to the lesson and returned Harry's ability to speak with a silently cast _finite._

"A simple, 'learn to cast finite wordlessly' would have been enough you know." Harry muttered mulishly, secretly grateful for the imparted knowledge.

"I wanted 'ze message to stick." Fleur shot back with a coquettish smile.

Harry had shown a startling proficiency for silent casting after he'd attempted it for the first time. He'd further supplemented Fleur's knowledge with information from a book found in the restricted section which dealt with some of the more esoteric principles regarding magic. Harry found the text more fascinating than any he had read before and it had quickly become his go-to when it came to learning more about the unquantifiable source of power that _was_ magic itself. The text had been more helpful to his progress than most academic texts he had found. And all with nothing more to claim credit than a simple title on the front cover:

 _"_ _Intent, Power, Control"_

Based on what he had learned about magical output, this was a title he felt was entirely appropriate, having put it into practice just minutes before while alternating the power in his bludgeoning hexes.

For the first time since attending Hogwarts, Harry had truly felt for the sensation of his magic bending the laws of nature to his will, and being in tune with his magic as he cast spells had several noticeable effects.

Harry could now focus on the amount of magic he let "flow" into a spell, which allowed him to control the power of the result of the spell. The possibilities were endless. A simple stunner could render an opponent dazed for just long enough to follow up with something more permanent or knock out a target for several hours, a simple water conjuring charm could fill a goblet or bury a man in a deluge of water strong enough to crush him.

Secondly, as he grew more in tune with his magic, Harry began to be able to _feel_ the way certain spells shaped his magic as they were cast. This was the essential first step to silent casting. Of the many sources Harry had read on the subject in the previous week, one point agreed upon almost universally was that casting nonverbally was much more than just thinking the words in your head. It would be more accurate to describe it as shaping your magic with the intent of the spell without the guidelines of the incantation. Although quite proficient for the amount of time he had to practice, there were only a handful of combat spells Harry could cast nonverbally so far.

Disarming and stunning nonverbally came to him pretty quickly, seeing as he was most familiar with casting these, and while he could manage a weak silent _protego_ , it wasn't quite ready to be used against someone with genuine intent to kill. Harry also had a strange affinity for summoning and banishing, having already put so much effort into learning the spell in the first place. The bludgeoning curse was another incredibly useful spell that came to him quite easily, and while he took a while to learn to cast them nonverbally, he was constantly building speed and accuracy with his wandwork.

Having practiced with the spell so much Harry discovered that the wand motion (when cast accurately) ended in the same spot that it began. This unique trait allowed multiple bludgeoners to be chained together which could throw even the most experienced duelists off balance.

Fleur interrupted his ruminations as she strolled over and joined him in returning to the castle "We've been out 'ere almost 'ze 'ole day, why don't we get something to eat? We'll be leaving early tomorrow morning you know..." Fleur mentioned with a frown.

Reminded of his friend's imminent departure, Harry replied with a sad smile, "Thanks again for helping me out so much, Fleur, I'm not sure what I'm going to do for practice when I won't have my favorite dueling partner anymore."

She grinned softly. "Oh please, your power 'as already surpassed my own and your technique has only gotten better each day. Plus, it was as much for my enjoyment as it was for yours," she added more quietly as they passed the entrance to the Great Hall earning glares from the non-Gryffindors who still questioned the truth behind the death of Cedric Diggory. "Plus, your power is still growing, and I can't imagine any of your peers picking up silent wandwork as easily as you 'ave.

Just focus on your theory and stockpile more spells to increase your arsenal and I can come visit sometime this summer and we can work from there." She finished as they sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table away from the rest of the house. By this point in time, the two champions sitting together was commonplace and didn't gain any more attention than a glare from Ginny Weasley further down the table and the occasional glazed look from more than a couple wizards throughout the room.

Harry nodded good-naturedly to Dean and Seamus sitting opposite Fleur and himself who, despite sporting slightly dazed expressions, had been nothing but respectful to his new friend. Harry spared a glance to Ron and Hermione sitting several seats down the table, but the two made no indication that they had even noticed him.

Dumbledore stood, causing the chatter despite the somber mood to cease.

 _*"The end." Said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."_

 _He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall._

 _"_ _There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."_

 _They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."_

 _Harry caught a glimpse of Cho through the crowd. There were tears pouring silently down her face. He looked down at the table as they all sat down again._

 _"_ _Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."_

 _Harry raised his head and stared at Dumbledore._

 _"_ _Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."_

 _A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence._

 _"_ _The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so – either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."_

 _Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now. . . or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table, Harry saw Draco Malfoy muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. Harry felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in his stomach. He forced himself to look back at Dumbledore._

 _"_ _There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."_

 _A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore._

 _"_ _Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."_

 _Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Cedric's, and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures, Harry saw that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them._

 _When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened – of Lord Voldemort's return – such ties are more important than ever before."_

 _Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour_ [sitting next to Harry at the Gryffindor table] _and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected to say something harsh._

 _"_ _Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again – in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open._

 _"_ _It is my belief – and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken – that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst._

 _"_ _Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."*_

By the end of his thought-provoking speech Fleur was clutching his hand underneath the table. Despite the mood left by Dumbledore words, Harry was further resolved to be better, to prevent tragedies such as this from ever occurring again. To prevent witches and wizards like Cho losing their loved ones, Harry promised himself that he would be better.

He _had_ to be better.

This being the last night for the moment he had with Fleur, Harry placated himself with the knowledge that he would be seeing her again _somehow_ this summer. With that thought in mind he dug in to the huge feast that magically appeared in front of him with a motion from his headmaster, content with the progress he had made and resolved that he would be unrecognizable by the time he sat down at these tables once again.

 ***Italicized text at the end surrounded by asterisks is an excerpt from Harry potter and the Goblet of Fire.**

 **AN: Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I think by dialogue is improving bit. I thought nothing would blow time like reading fanfiction until I actually started writing it jeeze, mad props to all you career writers out there I don't envy your sleep schedule, though I am really enjoying this so far. The reasoning behind including that passage from J.K. Rowling's original novels is that I think that for the majority of us, (myself included) we read so much fanfiction that we haven't actually read the novels in a while and forget some of the bomb-ass speeches Dumbledore pulls out of his ass, especially with all the manipulative!dumbledore themed fics out there. I just thought people needed reminding what a charismatic individual he truly is sometimes. I promise I wasn't padding my wordcount as it really doesn't matter to me at all. Until next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Revised: 6/15/2019**

It was a somber Harry Potter that left the Great Hall that evening. Dumbledore's words were still weighing heavily on his mind and Fleur's imminent departure was a constant source of anxiety.

Ravenclaw had won the house cup this year, the lack of a quidditch season to pad the house points of the Sytherin and Gryffindor houses made way for the academically inclined 'claws to take the Cup. But considering recent events, the house cup wasn't exactly highest on his list of priorities.

Harry was interrupted from his inner musings by a high pitched voice from behind.

"Slinky is being asked to bring master Harry Potter Sir to Professor spinny eye before yous goes to bed sir!" The diminutive house elf stared up at Harry with familiar bulbous eyes as he delivered his message.

After a moment of consideration Harry, realized who he was being summoned by, thanked the elf and set off towards the DADA classroom pondering what Moody could want so close to the end of the year.

It wasn't as if he'd actually _sat_ for exams this term… What reason could the paranoid ex-Auror have for summoning him so late into the year? On second thought, it made sense that a man like Moody might want a first-hand account of his time in the graveyard. But why wait so long?

Resigned to the fact that he would not know for certain until he talked to the man himself, Harry paced onward towards the moving staircases.

After climbing to the third floor he turned down a familiar hallway, his mind recalling his first year when this hall was being used for something much more ominous than the defense classroom. Apparently, it had been relocated specifically to house the stone, but had returned to normal from his second year onward.

Finally reaching his destination, Harry rapped his knuckles twice on the door and walked in after hearing a gruff: "Enter!" in Moody's familiar growling voice.

Harry eyed the weathered man surrounded by his numerous dark-detection devices before addressing him. "Evening, Professor, I was told to come meet you here after the feast. Is there something you needed from me?"

"Have a seat, Potter!" Moody barked. Following the order, Harry waited for Moody to continue, keeping alert as usual when in the ex-auror's company. It would not do to be caught off guard if the paranoid man decided now would be the perfect time for his special brand of pop quizzes.

The man hobbled around his desk, his gait as awkward as one would expect from someone with a wooden leg. "I summoned you to speak about the ordeal you've been through a couple weeks back; the school's been crawling with ministry officials for the past weeks, investigating the parties involved so I haven't been able to talk to you sooner."

Thinking it odd that having ministry officials in the castle would prevent Moody from talking to him yet not voicing his concerns, Harry nodded, indicating that he understood and waited for his defense professor to continue.

"Albus mentioned you were in the presence of the Dark Lord!" Moody uttered fervently. "Not only that, but you crossed wands with him and you've lived to tell the tale!" The thinly-veiled reverence and form of address of Voldemort was setting off alarm bells in Harry's head as the pieces began to fall into place.

"Well I wouldn't exactly say I fought him, sir, I really just ra—"

"Did you feel the power of his _magic_ Potter?" Moody continued, "The absolute _obedience_ his mere presence commands?!"

Harry by this point had risen from his seat and begun to inch towards the door. He leveled narrowed eyes on his Professor, whose sycophantic murmurings had reached a fever pitch. Though he was beginning to have his doubts that this even _was_ Moody. The thought that an ex-auror responsible for half the population of Azkaban being a Death Eater was laughable. Moody, noticing Harry's hasty retreat, locked the door with a negligent wave of his wand.

A cruel smile further disfigured his already grotesque visage.

"The Dark Lord had plans for you, Potter, plans he has not felt the need to divulge to a lowly servant such as myself! His most devoted follower! But at this point I think he would reward me for my _initiative._ For delivering the head of his greatest enemy." By the end of his impromptu speech the man's voice had lost the gruff quality of Alastor Moody and transformed into one with a more cultured, whimsical inflection.

The difference was unsettling, and this persona no less dangerous, perhaps even more so.

Before Harry could think further on the matter, a surge of gathering magic tickled at his senses.

Harry was diving before the spell even left Moody's wand, taking cover behind a cabinet holding countless dark-detecting devices. He managed to clumsily banish a desk on the way down, buying himself the slightest of moments to take cover.

'Moody's' opening salvo was interrupted by the crash of splintering wood, but Harry paid it no mind. A quietly muttered _expecto patronum,_ a pleasant memory and his shimmering stag familiar burst from the tip of his wand and ghosted through the stone walls of the classroom _._

Incidentally, the day spent with Fleur learning how to send patronus messages was the same memory he used to cast this particular missive.

Harry flinched away as the cabinet he was using for cover splintered under the force of what seemed to be an overcharged concussion hex. Knowing a shield charm would be useless against the physical debris he dodged to the side, summoning another desk to intercept the spraying wood and glass shards. A trio of silent bludgeoners to throw the exposed imposter off balance followed by another banished desk was launched with precise flicks from Harry's holly wand.

Harry inwardly cursed his predicament. He was quickly coming to realize how impractical trading curses was with so many objects littering the room was. If he managed to make it out of this mess, incorporating transfiguration into his newly developing style of combat would be his number one priority.

Resolving to address that issue once he was out of this mess, Harry ducked out from his cover and let loose with an overpowered _reducto_ at a mass of desks, peppering the north end of the room with debris. He peered through the imploded classroom supplies, leveling his wand at the shuffling figure ducking defensively.

" _Ossis Fragmen."_

The spell fell from his lips, his verdant eyes widening slightly at the electrifying rush of magic that flew from his wand.The Bone Fragmentation curse was one he had come upon in some of the less savory tomes in the Hogwarts library. Having not had much time or opportunity, he was unable to cast it silently, but with proper misdirection...

It wasn't exactly a spell approved for school curriculum, but wasn't that the whole point?

The writhing, orange-hued curse sailed across the room, slamming into the imposter's left shoulder with a sickening splintering noise.

Harry'd had enough broken bones in his lifetime to recognize the familiar injury. His spell had connected!

Speaking of magic he was familiar with… As Harry peered through narrowed eyes at the imposter, he was certain he'd seen the stomach-churning sight of bubbling flesh somewhere before… on second thought, he'd had firsthand experience with the sensation. It'd take a lot to ever forget his first experience with Polyjuice.

So that was how he'd gone undiscovered for so long… At least that meant Moody was still alive…

The imposter grunted in pain briefly from Harry's curse and grimaced as Moody's peg leg clattered to the ground to make way for his natural limb. Unfortunately for Harry, the shoulder he'd shattered was merely the man's weaker arm. Disregarding the pain, the fake Moody was still frighteningly free to cast as he wished.

Recovering quickly, the man tossed back a simple disarming charm. The first-year spell surprised Harry at first but he still managed a decent parry with a flick of his wand. His eyes widened as a second, ominously crackling yellow curse entered his vision having initially been hidden behind the disarming charm. The curse left a feeling of distinct _malevolence_ as it sizzled past Harry's right ear, crashing into the wall of the classroom and eroding close to a foot into the gray stone of the castle, leaving behind a sizzling mess of corroded stone.

"We call that one an acid spitter, Potter!" An entirely unrecognizable voice filled with a malice unheard of from Moody's usual persona echoed around the trashed defense room, "'twas a favorite of mine from the last war! If you're going to throw out lethal curses, _boy,_ you've got to be prepared to take 'em too!"

A shiver tickled Harry's spine. The kid gloves had clearly come off…

He might actually _die._

A duo of acid spitters left the now much younger man's wand followed by what Harry recognized as an entrails expelling curse. The distinctly black and red undulating flightpath the book spoke of was a bit more frightening when it was careening towards your head.

The first two curses were quickly sidestepped and the third barely shielded by a muttered _contego_. The spell's effect was nullified, but Harry now found himself backed into the classroom's northern wall. His paths of escape were completely cut off, and he was clearly outmatched.

Before he could bring his wand up to retaliate, his opponent conjured two slabs of wood, banishing them at speeds Harry couldn't quite follow. The assailant's wand slashed through the air, transfiguring the speeding projectiles into shackles which slammed Harry into the rocky stone wall.

"For fucks sake! You know, I'm getting _really_ bloody tired of being pinned in this position by the bad guys. I thought magicals weren't religious for Merlin's sake!"

Harry's sarcastic commentary belied his inner panic at being restrained by another rabid follower of the Dark Lord. He tugged fruitlessly at his restraints, defiant in the face of danger but realistically not seeing a way out of his predicament. Now would be the perfect time for Dumbledore to burst in to save the day!

His inner monologue was interrupted by the door exploding inward.

"Eat your heart out, Trelawney! There's a new seer in th-"

"Potter… I was under the impression that you were finished with your usual end of the yea, attention-seeking shenanigans already. But it seems being the topic of discussion that the school simply will not stop spewing out simply wasn't enough for the golden boy who chose, or whatever they are calling you these days."

God _damnit!_ Well it wasn't Dumbledore, but at this point he really couldn't afford to be picky.Snape entered the room with his characteristic gliding gait until he was situated between Harry and the imposter Moody.

"Good evening, Barty, you're looking awfully spry for a dead man." Snape uttered in his familiar drawl.

"I see you've chosen your side, Snape; I always knew you were a spineless coward! The dark Lord will have your head when he hears of your betrayal!" The now-identified Barty, who Harry assumed may be a close relation of the Ministry head by the same name, sneered at Snape while struggling to fend off the fresh professor while nursing a shattered shoulder. Regardless of the advantage he'd had to begin the fight, Harry's respect for his antagonistic potions professor definitely went up a few notches.

Snape subdued the man within seconds showcasing his considerable ability with a wand despite his current career. He turned around once the man was subdued and released the bound Harry from the wall.

Harry eyed the man now wrapped in conjured ropes and addressed his professor. "Thank you, sir, a couple more seconds and I might have been buggered."

An imperious stare was his only answer until Snape responded with a curt, "Language Potter, regardless of this situation your foul mouth will not aide you. I believe it would be in your best interest to return to Madame Pomfrey for medical attention, I will take this one," he gestured to the downed Death Eater, "To Professor Dumbledore."

"Sir…" Harry started waiting for acknowledgment from the dour man, "Who is he? He's been polyjuiced as our defense professor the entire year and no one even noticed."

Seeming to debate with himself whether to answer the boy or not, Snape eventually replied "Bartimus Crouch Jr., supposedly arrested and deceased in prison years ago, I suppose it will be another headache-inducing affair now that it is realized that that fool Black was apparently not the first to escape Azkaban."

Theories and tangents running through his mind, Harry decided to take on one problem at a time. Getting healed definitely took priority, despite how curious he was at the implications of this information.

"Thank you again for the help, Professor, I was aiming my patronus for Professor Dumbledore's office but frankly you were just as much help." Snape said nothing as the sole reminder of his life's greatest mistake exited the room, but appeared grudgingly impressed with the young student holding his own against one of Voldemort's lieutenants for as long as he did.

As Snape levitated the body and headed for Dumbledore's office asking a nearby portrait to find the Headmaster, and to warn him of his imminent arrival, Harry limped his way to the infirmary, one thought on his mind.

For once he'd managed to come out of an attempt on his life with no more than superficial scratches. That was an improvement at least, right?

Right?

 **AN: So yeah, not that happy with this chapter, I think it's because I want to do more with the combat aspect of the fic, but Harry really isn't at the level where I can get really technical because he simply doesn't know enough magic to _do_ the technical stuff nor is he good enough to force someone like Barty to either. Oh well, he'll get there eventually. Like always, if you care enough to want me to do something different, all it takes is telling me in a review. Next chapter should be faster!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

It was a miracle in itself that Harry had avoided all of Crouch's more lethal spells, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He'd come away from the whole affair relatively unharmed, if one ignored the tongue-lashing he received from Poppy for his accident-prone tendencies. But after a brief checkup, for once Harry'd escaped the infirmary after a few minutes.

Making his way back to the common room Harry waved to Dean and Seamus as he passed their table closest to the entrance. From what he caught of their conversation, Dean was trying to explain to Seamus the mechanics of some muggle sports. From the exasperated sounds coming from the pair, he wasn't very successful in his endeavor.

It seemed for once that rumors of their wayward defense professor had yet to reach the general population of the school. Frankly, that was just fine with Harry, in fact he'd prefer it if his peers remained ignorant of the fact that they'd been taught by a Death Eater for the greater portion of the year. Not to mention the less attention Harry drew the better.

After the eventful night, He flopped into his four-poster, closed his curtains with a flick of his wand and, ignoring the snores from Ron and Neville, surrendered to the land of Morpheus under the scarlet colored curtains for the last time until next September.

oooOoOoOooo

It was now the morning of June 24th and time for the foreign schools return to their respective countries. The Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave in less than an hour, but Harry was rather preoccupied with the witch currently wrapped in his arms. He and Fleur stood a ways off from the platform, reluctantly saying their goodbyes.

"I wish you didn't have to go," Harry muttered dejectedly into the beautiful witch's shoulder all the while committing her unique scent of pine and linen to memory. It was difficult to believe that they had really only been close for a couple of weeks; at this point Fleur felt like a lifelong acquaintance to the boy.

"I feel 'ze same way 'Arry," she whispered in his ear sending goosebumps along his neck. "But we will see each other this summer _non_? I can just as easily find an apprenticeship in London as I can in France. We will see each 'ozzer soon, _je promets."_ With that final phrase, the French witch brushed her rose colored lips across his own and was walking back to the carriage by the time he came to his senses. "Be sure to write 'Arry!" she called over her shoulder sending a flirtatious smile to the blushing teen.

It was a moment before his brain managed to reboot. "Wow… no worries there, Fleur," he sighed. Harry had no doubt he'd be counting the seconds.

He returned Fleur's wave as she disappeared into the door of the carriage, watching as the massive palominos took flight. They ascended with an ethereal grace over the dark foliage of the forbidden forest. The moment was bittersweet for Harry, and it took all his resolve to focus on the positives, this was prescribed to be his best summer yet.

Harry, along with any other Hogwarts students that had made friends with members of the foreign delegations over the school year, ambled back to the castle to prepare for their own departure. Having already packed his belongings, which were stowed away in his trunk and shrunk to the size of a matchbox, Harry didn't have much to do until the train was due to leave. His miniature trunk was just visible, hung on a loop of string behind the collar of his shirt and would hopefully stay shrunk long enough to get off the Express without unshrinking.

At the first opportunity, Harry planned to visit Diagon Alley in order to purchase a trunk that was enchanted to shrink and unshrink without a wand. This was simply the first of many precautions Harry had planned in order to keep his possessions out of the hands of the Dursleys over the summer. Despite being thrown into a borderline abusive household for over a decade, Harry now realized that it would be up to himself to better his own situation.

As a younger child, he never really had the opportunity to rebel against his guardians, it was all he knew after all… But ever since his fifteenth birthday and accompanying introduction to wizarding Britain, Harry finally realized he had a bit of weight to throw around even if it had taken a few years to recognize it. Though in his defense, a habitual decade of being told he wasn't worth the clothes on his back took time to cleanse from his psyche. As he boarded the Express Harry, not for the first time, rehashed what he needed to do once the summer holiday began.

Keeping his trunk shrunk and constantly on his person would hopefully remove most of the Dursley's leverage over him. As for practicing magic, nothing was really stopping him from taking the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley if he wanted.

Harry dodged around crowds of students bustling along the aisle of the train, having no particular destination in mind. He palmed the smooth wood of his holly wand where it rested in his pocket, considering his dilemma of actually _practicing_ the magic he would learn this summer.

In the short term Harry planned to simply rent a room for a day at the Cauldron, but that would soon grow tedious, not to mention it lacked any sort of security of subtlety. But it was alright for a temporary solution. Granted, he wouldn't be able to practice any truly destructive magic, but he'd been planning on refining his transfiguration first anyways, and that was _after_ he'd revised the theory from the years he'd already covered.

He had time.

Harry recalled the letter from Padfoot he received in response to writing him after waking up in the hospital wing following the third task. Sirius was nothing but encouraging in the case of bettering himself when it came to his magic, and even offered supplemental reading for some of his core classes.

Apparently, his godfather was now housed in a more permanent residence, and had access to a fairly vast magical library. The man was curiously vague about the exact location, but considering the man's legal status, it may have simply been a precaution against compromising his whereabouts. However, the true gem of his godfather's correspondence was his explanation behind the process of tracking underaged magic.

He'd explained that the trace was keyed to the wands of every underage wizard; reasonable, considering how strictly regulated wands were in Britain. However, the specific spell that was used could only detect that magic was being performed within the range of the traced wand, but could not pinpoint the specific caster. This information was crossreferenced with the magic users located within the same range, which is how an underaged magic violation is determined. The law was actually designed to cater to underage magicians being able to do magic when strictly around an of age wizard, promoting tutoring and such during the summer holiday.

Harry scoffed under his breath. Merlin only knew why Hogwarts tried to ban magic over the summer entirely.

There was, however a loophole to exploit in such a system; instances of underage magic happening in public locations such as Diagon Alley would still register at the ministry, but the caster could not be identified due to the pure magical population density of these areas. To Harry this made sense and would explain the warning received in his second year since he was the only magical at Number four, Privet drive, as well as why Hogwarts students weren't constantly triggering the trace while at school.

Regardless, what Harry had taken out of this information was that practicing magic in a magical household or a public location over the summer was entirely possible.

Did Ron know of such a loophole? Perhaps, but Harry doubted he would study over summers even if given the opportunity, not that Harry would judge him for that. Despite having a target on his back simply due to his friendship with Harry, Ron did _not_ have a Dark Lord after his life. How he wanted to spend his summers was his own prerogative.

Hermione, on the other hand, _had_ to be ignorant of this fact; she would be apoplectic at the unjust advantage held by most purebloods, and in this case, rightly so.

Harry, however, planned to abuse the system wholeheartedly.

Breaking out of his thoughts as heard a commotion coming from inside one of the compartments, the onyx-haired wizard spotted two familiar mops of red hair along with a third member of the Gryffindor quidditch team, Katie Bell inside.

Harry tapped the door twice and stuck his head in, "Mind if I join you guys?"

"Well, if it isn't our resident Triwizard champion himself!" Fred postured sarcastically.

"It's _simply_ amazing you even managed to make your way to us through _all_ your adoring fans!" echoed George as he playfully jabbed Harry with his elbow.

"Just one _special_ fan, or so I've been told," Katie chimed in with a knowing look.

Harry managed to keep his blush in check, but his lack of a response was answer enough.

"What's this dear brother of mine? Does our young champion have his eyes on an _older_ champion?"

"Methinks so Fred, it seems a certain lovely veela has captured the heart of our young hero." George swooned, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. Though he couldn't completely hide his grin.

Harry laughed good-naturedly, "Ok! Enough, guys, I get it! So Fleur and I may have gotten pretty close in the last couple of weeks. But it was just a kiss I'm not sure where it's going from here." The next part was mumbled to himself, "Hopefully we can get together sometime this summer and see where it goes from there." The twins dropped the banter with grace and listened as Harry moved on to the real reason he joined them in their compartment.

Removing the chord around his neck and unshrinking his trunk with a silent _finite_ , Harry rummaged around his trunk, tossing socks and spare quills aside, as his teammates watched on silently.

"Ahah!"

Finding the item he was after, Harry closed and latched his trunk once again. Unceremoniously plopping the unassuming brown sack atop the now closed trunk with a distinct jangle of loose coins, "Disregarding what a total clusterfuck the final task ending up being… actually, scratch that, the whole tournament was buggered from the beginning… as you know I _did_ end up actually winning the bloody thing, and _this_ was the result!" Indicating the sack of galleons sitting in front of them all.

George blinked owlishly, crossing his arms slowly. "That's great, Harry, real happy for ya' but… uh what does that have to do with us?" His twin nodded in agreement, mirroring his stance.

Harry grinned, "Word on the Hogwarts grapevine is you two are interested in running Zonko's out of business? I figured what better use for a thousand galleons than to fund the next generation of Marauders." Eyebrows rose at this; foreseeing the twin's protests already forming on their lips Harry held up a hand forestalling their arguments. "Don't get me wrong, this isn't charity, I know you two better than to expect you to just accept this as a gift. I'm investing in a future business venture with you two. I fully expect to profit off of your genius, I'm just offering you two the startup money."

Having their arguments halted before they even began, the twins turned to each other, seeming to come to a decision with each other telepathically.

"You think…"

"But what if…"

"Naw it's too…"

"But maybe…"

Turning back to the black haired teen, the twins acquiesced with matching grins, "You've got a deal, Mr. Potter." Matching their grins with a genuine smile Harry shook Fred's left and George's right hands marking the start of a beautiful partnership.

"Take the gold now, we can owl this summer to figure out the details or if you want to bounce ideas off of me." Harry added.

As the grassy green hills and clear azure sky sped by outside the speeding express, Katie looked on with horror, "Merlin help us all."


	6. Chapter 6

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

The rest of Harry's return to London was mostly uneventful. The young wizard spent the majority of the ride either joking around with the twins and Katie or getting a head start on his summer reading. Their compartment was also visited around an hour after Harry gave up his triwizard earnings by Ginny and another young witch, whom she introduced as Luna Lovegood.

The girl seemed to exist in a perpetual state of whimsy, and that was _before_ one considered girl's physical appearance. Her large, vacant, silvery blue eyes and long pale blonde hair gave the girl a striking appearance, ethereal in a completely different manner to Fleur, whom she admittedly shared a few characteristics.

Like a fairy….

"Hello, Harry Potter, did you know that everyone is saying that you killed Cedric Diggory, and are lying about He-who-must-not-be-named returning?" Her bold proclamation upon entering the compartment almost drove Harry to write her off then and there as just another sheep following the whims of the masses. However, something in her eyes gave him pause; the statement was not one of accusation but fact.

Harry would have had to be truly oblivious to miss the rumors being thrown about so callously. His presence hardly deterred the gossipers. No, it seemed they had no problem calling him a murderer from mere meters away, as if he _didn't_ have ears of his own.

"I can assure you, Miss Lovegood, that is nothing but the usual rumors perpetuated by the ignorant masses. It's not the first time people have needed a scapegoat to avoid their fears. Unfortunately, that tends to be me more often than not." Harry added with a sardonic quirk of the lips.

"Oh, I agree, Harry Potter! The wrackspurts seem to be particularly active towards the end of term," came Luna's odd reply.

Rather than ask the obvious question, Harry gave her a smile and greeted Ginny who apparently, with a certain blonde veela on the way to her home county, seemed to have lost some of her frostiness and asked about his plans for summer and if he would be visiting the Burrow again.

"I'm not quite sure yet, Ginny, I do have many things to do this summer, and I'm not sure how it will all play out yet. I _will_ say that I plan on being much more comfortable than usual this summer." Harry replied distractedly.

Ginny seemed a bit put out at that answer. "Well… if you say so, Harry, see ya' round.

With wave over her shoulder she and Luna left the compartment to say goodbye to some of Ginny's year mates in another car. The rest of the journey was filled with the twins and Katie's game of exploding snap, (Katie being the victor) while Harry reviewed some defensive spells from _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble.

It wasn't until the Express had arrived at Kings Cross and Harry was making his way out of his compartment that he was confronted by someone who he'd hoped to avoid for once.

"Thought you could get away that easily, _Potter?"_ The sheer derision Malfoy inflected his name with made Harry wonder, not for the first time, what exactly he had done to earn such scorn from the young wizard.

Breaking out of his thoughts Harry peered at the Malfoy scion, flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle, only watching, curious to see the reason for the usual visit.

Something told Harry he knew what this was about, but couldn't quite believe that Malfoy wanted to have this conversation so soon.

"What! Nothing to say, Potter? Weak at the knees from the mere thought of The Dark Lord's return?" Malfoy sneered at him with a newfound confidence. It wasn't surprising really, Malfoy would have been one of the few that would have second hand confirmation of Riddle's resurrection. His two bookends echoed his cutting remarks with their gorilla-like grunts of laughter.

Frankly after everything he'd been through in the past few weeks, the entire year really, these three weren't even a blip on Harry's radar. He did however, feel the need to make a point to the young wizards in front of him.

"Draco," Harry spoke, instantly gaining the boy's attention with the startling familiarity and tone, "I was under the impression that the Malfoy's were the epitome of who you consider pure of blood. Or am I mistaken?" Seeing he wouldn't be answering soon, Harry continued. "I thought Malfoy's bowed to no one? You _did_ tell me our very first day here to not consort with the _'wrong'_ sort, did you not?"

"Of course!" Malfoy interjected, gaining back some of his confidence after being thrown off his game. "We answer to know one! What's it have to do with a filthy Half-blood like you?"

"Ah, I see." Harry nodded amicably, "Well, perhaps I should enlighten you, Draco," Harry began again, a bitter smile overtaking his features, "You see, the Dark Lord" he paused, before amending, " _Voldemort_." Gaining the shudder he was looking for from the three students, "expects absolute obedience from those in his service, demands the ultimate respect. He expects you to _bow,_ regardless of how _pure_ you think your blood is." By now Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were enraptured by this calmer, confident Harry Potter and the tale he was weaving.

Ignorant of, or simply ignoring their looks, Harry continued. "Once you are indentured into his service, you are no longer your own man… he _owns_ you and everything you represent and hold dear. You cannot change your mind, you cannot leave, you cannot say _no._ I'm assuming you are aware of what really happened that night, correct? I witnessed your father, Draco, and both of yours as well, Gregory, Vincent, _begging_ for mercy on their knees at his feet."

Harry closed his eyes, exhaling tiredly as he relived that nightmare. "So I warn you, perhaps not for many months, but at some point in the future you are going to be faced with a choice… and I implore you to consider if that is really the life you wish to lead before you make that choice."

Leaving the gaping trio behind him to ponder his words, Harry calmly slipped past them and down onto the platform, not sparing them a backwards glance.

Harry had briefly toyed with the idea of revealing Voldemort's true heritage as well, but feared throwing out that tidbit of information would void all the points he had already made. Malfoy would most likely write off everything he had already said, under the impression that Harry was simply blowing hot air.

No, appealing to Draco's sense of pride was probably his best that he had gotten his message across, Harry was resolved that he had done the most he could do for them, but feared that years of grooming could not be undone with a single conversation, the rest was up to them. Not focused on where he was going, Harry was startled when he was crushed by a mass of fabric and bushy ginger hair.

The suffocating 'hug' from Mrs. Weasley made him appreaciate Fleur's soft embraces even more when given a fresh point of comparison.

"Harry dear! It's been too long. It looks like you've finally gotten some meat on those bones." The rotund witch said with a fond tone.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, it's good to see you too." He answered, gently extricating himself from her embrace.

The twins saved him from having to respond anymore with friendly slaps on the back and a quick, "Have a good summer Harry! Be sure to write and give the Muggles hell from us!"

Ignoring the admonishing Weasley matriarch Harry gave a wave to Ron and Hermione who were now taking their turn being smothered by Ron's mother and made his way past the faux pillar, keeping a lookout for his aunt and uncle.

Harry nervously fingered the shrunken trunk hidden behind the collar of his shirt, preparing to put on a show, content with the knowledge that if all went well, this summer would be nothing like the previous ones.

Spotting the unpleasant sneer of his aunt Petunia, her height putting her half a head above the majority of the crowd, Harry steeled himself for the vitriolic presence of his only living family.

He was not disappointed.

"Hurry up, _boy_! We haven't got all day!" came the expected grating voice of his uncle Vernon. Harry couldn't help but wince slightly at the form of address; in the same way Draco was a slave to his upbringing, Harry was still in the process of overcoming his own.

He did not let his ire show, however, Harry had already steeled himself to remain polite despite his uncle's apparent inability to reciprocate, his plan hinged on it after all.

"Good evening, Uncle Vernon, I'm ready to go."

The man's face contorted unpleasantly, growing redder by the second. "Is that so, boy? Where's your trunk filled with that freakishness, It'll have to be locked up this time around, especially after that _fiasco_ with those freakish _friends_ of yours! _Don't_ think we've forgotten!"

Harry cursed internally personally having forgotten the whole ordeal with the Weasley's picking him up for the Quidditch World Cup. With everything that had happened following, it had slipped his mind. Had they had the fireplace repaired yet? He _really_ wished he could have witnessed Veron trying to explain all the damage to a repairman.

As humorous as it may have been, his uncle's angrier-than-usual state of mind was an unforeseen complication. This would require a subtlety that Harry was unsure if he possessed, but what else could he do but try?

"You see, Uncle Vernon," Harry began, adopting what he hoped was a contrite expression, "there was an incident at school, and a group of kids got ahold of my trunk and trashed all of my things." Harry explained with a feigned bitter glance at the ground. The look of glee that crossed his uncle's face at his apparent misfortune told him that his gambit was working. Now to push it a bit further. "And as for the um… incident last summer, I'm uh… really sorry about that, I told them not to come that way but you know _our_ kind... I'll have all my chores done in the mornings and be out of your hair for the rest of the day this summer! Promise."

In Harry's humble opinion, he deserved a BAFTA for this performance. Harry kept his expression as neutral as he could manage, all the while internally sneering at the large man in front of him.

Vernon eyed the boy before him with a critical glare, Harry's lucrative offer visibly warring with whatever instructions the Headmaster had left with him all those years ago.

He seemed to come to a decision, his heavy exhale sending the excess fat around his non-existant neck wobbling. "We'll see. There are plenty of things to do that have built up while you've been lazing around at that ridiculous school of yours, see that they're all done and I don't want to see hide nor hair of you after that."

While celebrating internally Harry mutely nodded and hopped in his uncle's new company car which they had just arrived at, his aunt Petunia merely eyeing him in the rearview mirror with derision.

Having successfully freed up his afternoons, Harry's plan to spend as much time as possible in magical London this summer had begun. As he was reminded by Dumbledore before leaving at the end of term, as long as he spent enough time with the Dursleys and considered number four Privet Drive his home, his 'family' would be protected, however taking consistent trips to Diagon Alley would hopefully have no impact on the strength of the wards. If he _was_ wrong and the protections failed, frankly he didn't give a rat's ass if the Dursleys were protected or not in the first place. Despite Dumbledore's opinion on the matter, he had other options for residency.

Content with his plans falling into place he laid his head back and got comfortable for the ride back to Privet Drive.

oooOoOoOooo

Harry's first afternoon back in Privet Drive was par for the course. He was shoved bodily up the stairs to his room, reminded by uncle Vernon that he was to complete the list of chores he was given and to have breakfast ready for the family at their usual time.

Continuing his submissive persona, he nodded with a simple "Yes uncle Vernon," dodging a shoulder check by his cousin who seemed to have grown even larger over the recent year, and trudged up the stairs. Passing through the weathered door to his room he dropped his demure expression, eyeing his meager possessions with obvious distaste. Due to his trunk still being in its shrunken state around his neck Harry was unable to remove any of his books for the time being, however getting to bed early would be beneficial if he was to get an early start the next morning. The next few days would indeed be incredibly busy.

oooOoOoOooo

They were.

Rising before dawn and working until the sun set was all that filled the next four days, Harry was determined to finish the list of chores that had built up while he was at school. He was working against the clock, as once the spell keeping his trunk in its shrunken state faded, Merlin only knew what Vernon would do if he discovered the young wizard's deceit. Luckily, he had reapplied the charm before leaving the express making certain he overcharged the _reducio_ and was certain it would last at least a week before the magic unraveled. Repairing the shed out back and part of the roof had taken the longest time but luckily by the fifth day all that would be left were Harry's usual daily chores, not that they wouldn't eat up nearly half of his day anyway.

Harry was certain the Dursley's were intentionally fucking up their house out of spite. It certainly wouldn't be a first for Dudley, but it seemed that Vernon and Petunia had adopted a level of pettiness to rival their son's. There's no way a home as small as Number four would require daily upkeep to _that_ extent, especially with a clean-freak like Petunia constantly on the prowl.

oooOoOoOooo

The steady beeping of his worn wristwatch once again brought Harry out of his slumber, the dark predawn sky still peeking through his tattered curtains. He groaned, still unused to rising at such an early hour, but he would get used to it in time. At least that's what he told himself; it would be worth it.

The young wizard rolled out of bed resigned to yet another morning filled with chores. Trudging to the bathroom to brush his teeth, skipping the shower both to avoid waking his uncle as well as knowing he would only be working up a sweat for the next few hours. Grabbing the cleaning supplies from under the bathroom sink, Harry got to work, starting with the bathroom itself, only 'breaking' two hours later to start breakfast.

Harry was just setting a platter of sausage bacon and eggs on the table when Vernon lumbered in with a an entirely expected, "I hope you didn't burn our breakfast, boy, I've got a big contract lined up today and I won't have your ruining it!"

Ignoring the lack of logic used by his toxic uncle, Harry gave a distracted reply. "Yes, Uncle Vernon, good luck with that."

Apparently, Harry wasn't quite as successful at keeping the sarcasm out of his voice as he'd thought. Either way, it clearly wasn't the answer Vernon was looking for and he made his displeasure known. The blow came seemingly out of nowhere, sending Harry to bump into the counter, luckily having already put down the hot skillet. The smack wasn't all that hard but the shock of being struck was startling.

"Watch your cheek, boy! Be glad that you even have a roof over your head after all the freakishness you've pulled!" The diatribe of his uncle was barely audible over the ringing in Harry's ears. Having already set the table he saw no reason to tolerate his uncle's presence any longer and slunk out of the room to finish the rest of his chores.

The rage behind his verdant eyes was palpable, but it wouldn't do to blow up at his uncle after all the work he'd put in this week to remain under the radar.

By noon he was finished and ready to begin the part of his day that held real importance. Walking to the end of the sidewalk he headed down Privet drive to a park that would be more out of the way than the front of Number four.

Raising his holly wand, Harry didn't even bat an eyelash at the garish purple monstrosity that screeched around the corner coming to a stop in front of him. For a moment he'd thought he caught a flash of movement in his peripherals but after glancing after it there was nothing but the benches of the child's playset in the park swinging in the breeze. Harry assumed that the triple decker bus would be charmed out of sight from muggles, but it wouldn't hurt to remain unnoticed by Wizard and Muggle alike.

Satisfied that the motion had been a trick of the light, Harry boarded the bus, tossing Stan a galleon with a brief, "Diagon Alley please," receiving six sickles in return.

After a mildly uncomfortable ride Harry once again stood in front of the dingy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. He entered the pub without preamble, determinedly ignoring the scathing glances and muttered conversation that spread throughout the pub upon his entrance. He was well aware of the public defamation he was being subjected to by the ministry as Hedwig had been delivering the Prophet to him all week. He reminded himself that people would believe what they wanted and short of blindly following the Minitry's orders, there was nothing he could do to change their minds.

Tom the barkeep, on the other hand met his gaze with nothing but a welcoming smile as he approached the man. "Afternoon, Tom, I'm looking into renting a room here for the summer, mind letting me know what that might run me?" Greeted Harry.

"Hello, Mr. Potter, are 'ye lookin' ta 'ave meals 'ere too lad?"

Pondering this briefly Harry answered, "No, thank you, just the room would be wonderful."

"Yer looking a' around ten galleons a week there, lad."

"Hmm thanks, Tom, I just need to take a trip into the alley to run some errands, I'll be back for a spot of lunch with the rent for the month if you don't mind." Harry answered distractedly. He didn't have much on him at the moment and he had needed to pay a visit to the goblins first anyway.

Making his way through the back entrance of the Cauldron and through the enchanted brick wall with the appropriate taps of his wand, Harry strolled leisurely through the colorful and lively alley dodging giggling children and hurried adults alike.

It amazed Harry that these people could be so carefree while one of the most dangerous criminals ever to grace the wizarding world ran free once again. Though after a bit more considering, it wasn't surprising in the least; as they said, ignorance is bliss. It was that very ignorance that the ministry's smear campaign was attempting to prolong. If it wasn't for the fact that Fudge cared more for his job and the power that came with it, Harry might actually have some sympathy for the man. Who _wouldn't_ want such peaceful times to continue?

Unfortunately, the problem wouldn't be so easy to fix, and in the long run the ministry's denial would only cause greater suffering. It would be the powerless civilians that would pay the price.

Harry arrived at the magnificent golden wrought gates of Gringotts, nodding shortly to the twin goblin warriors guarding the entrance.

He made his way to a teller, waiting a short while for the line to slowly shrink as customers finished their business. At his turn he greeted the goblin at this desk, "Good afternoon, I wish to make a withdrawal from my vault as well as a statement of all of my current assets." The Goblin teller glanced up from his paperwork with a bored expression adorning his intimidating features.

"Name and key?"

"Harry Potter, and I seem to have misplaced my key, I don't actually know where it is at the moment." The Goblin rolled his inhuman eyes.

"Very well," he answered in his gravelly voice, "We will be issuing a recall on any existing vault keys. Your hand please, we must first confirm your identity." The prick on the index finger of the hand Harry had stretched forward was healed before he even registered the pain and he was handed a new small golden key. Calling another goblin over, the teller was once again buried in his own paperwork.

"Follow me, I will lead you to your vault and will give you your statement once we have arrived." He was addressed by the new goblin.

"Oh hello Griphook, it's been a while since I've seen you here." Harry answered

"My name is Bloodfang _wizard,_ it would serve you well to remember it!" The goblin snarled back at him.

Harry snickered unapologetically, "Sorry, you all look the same to me."

The newly identified Bloodfang stalked off with a huff not checking to see if the young wizard was following. Arriving at the usual cart Harry was jabbed in the back with the butt of the goblin's staff prompting him to hurry into car. Perhaps his joke had been in bad taste, but the thought was quickly driven from his mind as he hurtled with a 'woop' down into the bowels of Gringotts, the dark stone and cruel metal of the goblin tunneling system flashing by.

The ride was brief but exhilarating, and Harry, having never had the pleasure of visiting a muggle amusement park himself, always looked forward to that particular part of Gringotts visits. Harry followed Bloodfarng over to vault 687 and waited for the goblin to unlock it.

Harry entered without preamble, shoveling three, hundred-galleon stacks into the bottomless, featherweight-charmed bag that was hung by the entrance to the vault. Bloodfang, after fiddling with a runic scheme by the door handed Harry a parchment that listed the current holdings of the Potter family.

The goblin, seeming to have gotten over his earlier ire at Harry, further clarified the information on the parchment. "It is my understanding that the Potter family contributed much to funding the last wizarding war; many properties had been sold off before the first fall of Lord Voldemort, leaving the main family vault nearly empty." Bloodfang began with no indication that he cared either way about the fact. "However, James and Lily Potter were sure to have a small amount of the greater fortune put away for your upbringing: The trust vault we stand in currently. The amount in this vault totals close to five thousand galleons with the current exchange rate to muggle currency being twenty British pounds to the galleon.

Harry nodded, thanking the goblin for the clarification knowing it was not required.

Five thousand galleons was nothing to sneeze at… The sum would most likely last Harry through his remaining years at Hogwarts and perhaps even a few years after his graduation as long as he avoided any frivolous spending. Hopefully by that point he'd have a career of his own to support himself financially by that point.

There was always the profits from his share of Fred and George's shop to consider, if they became as successful as he expected they would be his financial situation would be a lot less dire. This was all assuming he hadn't been done in by a certain Dark Lord by that point.

Harry laughed to himself at the morbid thought earning a curious glance from his goblin guide.

"Thank you Bloodfang, I'm ready to leave now."

The goblin's eyes narrowed, "Very well, wizard." The pair made their way back to the carts and began the winding trip back to the surface.

oooOoOoOooo

As Harry paced down the hall filled with old weaponry and armour that lead to the main chamber of the bank he felt a familiar tug on his magic. Normally, a foreign presence effecting his magic would be cause for worry, but he easily recognized this sensation, having spent weeks in its presence. Following the pull, hoping he hadn't misinterpreted the feeling he felt a wide grin split his face.

"Fleur?"

Hearing her name called she turned only for a matching smile to further enhance her already radiant features. "'Arry!" she nearly squealed, rushing across the hallway towards her friend. The sound, so unlike the usually stoic witch briefly surprised Harry but the following embrace drove any further thought from his mind. As much as he'd like to think he was past all the insecurities born from his solitary childhood, there was always that lingering doubt that he'd grown far more attatched to the older witch than she was comfortable with. It was a relief to have confirmation that she'd missed him as much as he had her in the small amount of time that they'd been separated.

"What are you doing here so soon, Fleur? I'd thought you'd still be back in France this early in the summer" Harry asked, though not unhappy to see the beautiful witch.

"Why?" Fleur answered, regaining some of her composure. "Did you miss me?" she probed with hooded eyes and a flirtatious smile.

Harry relished the butterflies in his stomach for once, grinning back. "Well, with that greeting it seems I wasn't the only one."

The French witch hid a sheepish smile behind a hand, and instead of arguing his point decided to answer his earlier query.

"Well… I am still looking out for a master to apprentice under, but my, ah what is 'ze word? _Diplomes,_ qualities?

"Qualifications?" Harry guessed.

" _Oui,_ 'zat is 'ze word. My _qualifications_ allowed me to get a job in artifact appraisal for 'ze goblins 'ere." She finished, still smiling brightly at the young man.

"Really? I know the Weasley's oldest child, Bill, works as a cursebreaker for Gringotts, but I had no idea there were other jobs done by witches and wizards here, though I suppose it _does_ make sense," Harry mused.

Their conversation had taken them outside the bank's doors by this point and Harry had stopped, unsure of which direction Fleur was heading. He asked as much, "Fleur, I'm not sure if you had plans for the rest of the day but I have some business in the alley… Would you care to walk with me? I'd love to hear more about your new job."

"It would be my pleasure, 'Arry," she beamed.

Harry suppressed a shiver. He would never tell her this, but he privately loved the way his name sounded coming from her lips. Harry hoped she never lost her accent, at least when addressing him directly. Harry was such a dreadfully common name, but uttered from her seductive, rose colored lips, he doubted he could ever deny anything she asked of him.

He laughed inwardly at the irony of the situation. Here he was, nearly immune to her allure, yet helpless to resist the girl herself.

With a hint of a blush at his inner thoughts, he held his hand out for her, "Shall we then?"

" _Oui,_ " Fleur answered gently, taking his hand, and they were off once again. They ignored the glances from the crowd that mirrored those they received while at Hogwarts for much of the same reasons.

However, unnoticed to the pair, a plain looking witch with mousy brown hair watched on among the crowd, attentive, hazel-colored, eyes betraying her seemingly leisurely posture.

oooOoOoOooo

The pair made their way down the alley towards Harry's first destination, chatting idly about Fleur's potential new place of employment.

"-so whenever one is looking to buy or sell any type of magical artifact, 'ze specific enchantments 'zat are currently on 'ze object 'ave to be identified. 'Zat is where 'ze magical appraiser comes in, we identify 'ze enchantments on 'ze item to be bought or sold before it can be passed on to 'ze goblins in charge of 'ze sale. It can be quite dangerous as some are cursed artifacts and we also are 'zere to prevent 'ze customer from being, um, how you say, ripped off? Fleur finished her explanation with a questioning tone to her voice.

Harry nodded, indicating he understood what she was saying, "That seems quite extensive, you must be really talented to be able to do that kind of work, and it only makes me regret wasting a year of study with divination when it seems like many jobs in the magical world require knowledge in runes and arithmancy."

Fleur preened at the praise but nonetheless agreed with him. " _Oui,_ 'zose subjects are indeed, 'elpful, 'owever, 'zey are topics you are very much able to study on your own, and I will of course 'elp you as much as I can, after all I will be working in 'ze area." She added, matter-of-factly

"I've been meaning to ask, Fleur, where are you staying if you really _are_ committed to working in London?" Harry asked.

"I 'ave a small flat off of Batliver Drive." Her nose screwed up in distaste. "And on 'zat note, 'ze British 'ave 'ze most crude sense of naming I 'ave ever seen!"

Harry laughed, "I can't argue with you there, I love my school as much as the next wizard but Hogwarts isn't the most attractive name they could have chosen. Though I must admit I am fairly ignorant of many magical locations besides Diagon Alley, Hogwarts and Hogsmead. Where is Batliver drive anyway?"

"Oh, it's just a crosstreet of Diagon Alley, more residential 'zan 'ze cramped shops of 'ze main road," she clarified. "You are welcome to visit any time of course. You _are_ practically the only person I am close with in 'zis country after all."

Harry beamed at the thought of visiting Fleur whenever he wanted, but sobered and the reminder that she had left her family behind to live in the foreign country. He asked her as much, prompting her to elaborate on the situation.

"I felt 'ze need for a change of pace after spending so much time wiz' my family. I will of course miss _Maman,_ and _Papa,_ and of course you know 'ow much I will miss Gabriel, but I just needed some space." She smiled a bittersweet smile.

Her reply surprised him, though it really shouldn't have as his thoughts ran in a similar vein, and though he doubted her home life was as bad as his own, he had planned to do the same as soon as he was free of his own obligations.

Fleur's introspective frown still hadn't left her face and Harry felt the need to change the topic. Luckily they had arrived at their destination: Trollip's Trunks. Harry rolled his eyes at the wizarding world's fastidious need for alliteration in so many of their names.

He had already enlightened Fleur of the reason he needed a new trunk and the reasoning behind it on the way. To say she was both appalled and furious at the length his relatives would go to keep him in line in his own home would be an understatement. It was the first time he had seen a more physical manifestation of her veela heritage.

Her reaction on his behalf was both flattering and frightening seeing as he hadn't given her nearly the entire story behind how he was treated for the first fifteen years of his life. Luckily he had healed the slight bruising from the earlier altercation with his uncle; frankly, he feared for the Dursleys if she was ever enlightened to the details of his childhood.

The wizard Henry Trollip was a middle-aged man with graying short-cropped hair and kind brown eyes complete with laugh lines and all. The man was extremely helpful and it was clear he had a passion for trunks of all things. Though Harry would not judge someone for their passion regardless of how strange he may have found it. He'd certainly found his calling, and was helpful for Harry's own needs as well.

There were trunks for all purposes, from the simple Hogwarts basic set to the deluxe seven compartment trunks used by Aurors and other such professionals. There were even more specialized setups, like the portable potions lab he noticed in the corner of the room, complete with an auto-vanishing ventilation system to prevent the buildup of noxious fumes. The latter would put a dent even in Harry's small fortune and his frugal nature born of living a decade with nothing to his name prompted him to only buy what was necessary.

He settled for a single compartment rosewood trunk with a permanent expansion charm making the interior the size of a small walk in closet. He opted for the trunk to be blood locked; despite his distaste for blood wards simply on principle, he could not deny that it would be prudent to have his trunk locked to all but those of his blood, and those he keyed to it. To complete the deal was the self-shrinking charm that was the reason of the purchase in the first place.

The charm-work had his French companion bouncing in place as she observed with wide eyed joy. It seemed she was just as excited as Harry was about the whole process, though Harry more so for the end product than the mechanics behind it.

Startling Fleur out of her excitement, Harry reached under his collar, removed his shrunken trunk, and passed it to his companion, "Would you mind unshrinking that for me, Fleur?" Despite his knowledge that he could bypass the trace on a technicality, he really had no wish to be seen doing underaged magic in public, especially with his reputation being what it currently was.

Fleur placed the battered trunk on the ground and enlarged it with a silent _finite,_ returning the trunk to its original size. One of the first lessons one should learn when altering the size of an object is the fact that casting an _engorgio_ instead of canceling the magic that shrunk an object in the first place ran the risk of not returning the item to its proper size.

"Thanks Fleur, I hate to ask again but would you mind…"

She was casting before he even finished his request.

"'Eet 'eez not a problem _'Arry_ " she replied with a smile, her accent coming through even more than usual.

She _had_ to know what that did to him… Harry shivered inwardly, missing her mischievous glance of his French companion. They both watched as all his worldly possessions flew from his old trunk to pack themselves neatly in one corner of the significantly larger rosewood trunk.

Once the inanimate exodus was finished, Harry closed and latched the lid which he had keyed to his blood earlier. Harry channeled a bit of magic in the rune inscribed next to the lock and watched with joy as the trunk shrunk down to the size of a matchbox which he once again attached to the chord hanging around his neck.

He turned back to Mr. Trollip, "Would you mind taking my old trunk and giving it to the next Hogwarts student that comes in here looking like they could use a discount on the price of a trunk for school?" Harry said, handing the man the owed twenty galleons for his purchase.

"Will do, Mister Potter," the man said with a kind smile, "pleasure doing business with you."

"Thank you, and you as well." Harry answered.

"Farewell _Monsieur Trollip,"_ came Fleur's parting words, dazzling the shopkeeper.

Harry only shook his head at his beautiful friend with a fond smile.

"What 'eez 'eet ' _Arry?"_ She purred with a seductive smirk.

"Nothing, nothing." He replied with narrowed eyes. Fleur only looked away innocently. "Alright, the last stop I had planned today is the Cauldron; I need to rent a room for the summer, then we can grab a spot of lunch if you'd like to join me."

"You know I would, 'Arry, but what is 'ze reason for renting 'ze room?" Fleur questioned.

"Well, you know a bit of my situation at home," Harry began, wary of Fleur's initial reaction to the subject. When she remained calm and indicated to continue he went on, "Well, with that, as well as my need to practice magic this summer I figured if I could spend as much of my days as possible somewhere in Magical London I could dodge the trace. Having my own space for once wouldn't hurt either." He answered, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. Fleur pondered his answer briefly.

" _Non."_ She said simply.

" _N..non_?" the young wizard echoed, perplexed at the response.

" _Oui,_ you will come to me when you leave 'zose wretched relatives of yours, 'zough I still don't understand why you must still return to 'zem at all. You were quite adamant of 'zat before." she muttered the last part, "just know 'zat you are always welcome wiz' me 'Arry,"

Never before had Harry known such unconditional support, and here was this beautiful, wonderful, witch offering it without hesitation. He didn't pause to consider the consequences, embracing her quickly and meeting her lips with his own, touching only long enough to notice how incredibly soft they were before parting once again. Fleur's cerulean eyes were wide with surprise but also held an emotion that was mirrored in his own. She gave him a smile that lit up his face before taking his hand once more. Reveling in the moment, Harry muttered a simple "Thank you Fleur, it would be my pleasure to spend the summer staying with you."

"It is my pleasure, you can pay me back by treating me to ice cream, I 'ave 'eard good things about 'zis Fortescue, _non_?" she answered softly.

They spent the rest of the day together, and when it was time for Harry to once again return to the Dursley's, Harry, loath as he was to leave Fleur, questioned himself once again if it was really worth replenishing the so-called blood wards to protect his relatives. He would humor Dumbledore for the time being, but had a feeling he would no longer be calling Number four his home by the end of this summer.

After agreeing to meet at the Cauldron the next day at noon the pair parted and Harry left to once again board the Knight bus to take the tumultuous trip back to Number four Privet Drive, once again unaware of a piercing pair of eyes watching him leave the pub, this time a startling shade of blue.


	7. Chapter 7

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

Harry couldn't help the grin plastered across his face as he dressed and brushed his teeth the next morning, once again having risen before the sun.

The previous day had turned out to be much more exceptional than he had been expecting. What had started as a routine trip into Diagon Alley had not only reunited him with the witch that was slowly becoming his closest confident, but had also led him to a far superior location to study and practice magic. The extra time he'd be able to spend around Fleur was simply a bonus of course…

Harry padded through a silent house with an extra spring in his step, intending to finish his chores even earlier today in order to make it to the Cauldron in time.

Having already cleaned the majority of the house the previous morning, Harry lightly dusted the shelves of knickknacks and pictures of the three 'normal' residents of Number four and started on the Dursley's breakfast; attempting to weed the garden in the dark _would_ be pointless after all, it could wait until he'd finished cooking their meal.

Harry had just finished plating the last of the meal when his attention was grabbed by a sharp tapping on the window. Glancing at the source of noise, he was unsurprised to see a plain grey owl that he recognized as belonging to Hogwarts, seeking entry to his home. Thanking his lucky stars that the Dursleys had yet to wake up to encounter the uninvited guest, Harry padded over to the window to let the bird in, sneaking it, as well as himself a piece of bacon from the sizzling skillet. Harry took the letter attached to its leg and opened it reading the contents:

 _Mr. Potter,_

 _Though it pains me suggest this, it truly remains in your best interest to stay within the immediate area of Number four Privet Drive. You of all people are aware of the trying times in which we currently reside and I suggest you remain where you are protected for your own safety._

 _-Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore_

What? No: 'how are you, Harry' or 'Sorry we let you get kidnapped again, Harry?'

He frowned down at Dumbledore's particularly impersonal letter, so different in tone from the mentor-like figure he'd known the last four years.

Was this vague order to stay put the only update he would be given by the man? What happened to all the trust the Headmaster had spouted about towards the end of last term? What could have happened in the last few days that had change his opinion so severely?

But that wasn't the only issue here… With a flash of irritation, Harry realized that he was being monitored in some way. He cursed his own ignorance of tracking magic, knowing that such a thing _was_ possible with certain wards and enchantments. In hindsight, going to the alley without some sort of glamour wasn't the most intelligent of decisions. Despite his own safety being the justification for the headmaster's meddling, such an invasion of privacy without his permission only lowered his opinion of the Headmaster even further. The nature of the wards surrounding the Dursley's home had always been ambiguous, and the more Harry pondered such a topic the more they appeared to conveniently fit the Headmaster's wishes.

It was time for this farce to end…

He flipped the parchment over and began to pen an equally informal response on the back.

 _Headmaster Dumbledore,_

 _I appreciate your worry for my safety in these harrowing times and will take your suggestions into consideration. By your word of mouth the protections surrounding my home require me to spend the first month or so of the summer under the Dursley's roof, and for the time being I intend to do so. This is purely out of respect for your wishes, Headmaster, as you know the opinion my relatives have of me, an opinion I assure you is reciprocated entirely. Other than the requirements you have set for the safety of my relatives, how I spend my time is none of your business. I assure you I will be diligent during the rest of my holiday._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Harry Potter_

Harry read over what he had written, deeming it polite enough to be sent yet still remaining true to his original plans. Harry had no doubt that he had enough evidence at this point to be emancipated in the magical world on the basis of his guardians being unfit to care for him. How Dumbledore had convinced the Dursleys to house him past the typical age of majority in the muggle world would forever remain a mystery to him, but either way, his staying in their home was more for _their_ protection at this point than his own... The headmaster didn't actually have any authority over him outside of Hogwarts after all. Pushing for Harry to be handed over to the Dursley family would have been easy enough considering Sirius' incarceration and their direct relation to Harry. With Dumbledore's many titles it must have been trivial to throw his weight around to achieve the desired result in a time of war.

Harry had the legal grounds to push for emancipation, and under normal conditions such an appeal would be a simple matter, but considering his current reputation with the ministry his chances of success were close to nil. Taking that path would also cause more backlash for Dumbledore, Harry was hesitant to do so and risk alienating such a powerful ally in the coming months. Despite Dumbledore's cold attitude, it was still important to present a united front to the masses, informing the public of the Dark Lord's return was the most crucial step to resisting his efforts for takeover.

He tied his letter to the owl's leg and sent it off, striding out the back door, resigned to the hours of labor he still had ahead of him.

oooOoOoOooo

Albus Dumbledore was tired. No, that wasn't quite accurate, he was _exhausted_.

The accumulation of his many titles and responsibilities had allowed him to guide the future of the Wizarding world as best he could. In times of peace he felt quite able to juggle the many responsibilities demanded of him from the public and in the years following the first fall of Lord Voldemort he had done a fairly good job of it. He had made mistakes of course, after all, he _was_ only human. To claim perfection would be blasphemous, though he _had_ accumulated great wisdom in his hundred-odd years of living if he did say so himself.

However, currently, the wizarding world was _not_ in a time of peace, and between convincing the powers that be that the Dark Lord had indeed returned, gathering his own allies, and juggling his many responsibilities he found himself stretched thin once again.

Presently, the man of many names was enjoying the few minutes respite he could find in the day to himself, amusing himself with a kinetic desk toy, one of many muggle contraptions that littered his office.

He smiled in fascination. What wonderous inventions those without magic could come up with. As he tinkered with the swinging metal parts, a grey owl he recognized as the one carrying his message to Harry, swooped into the room and alighted upon his desk. Opening the offered letter, he sighed as he read the young man's response.

"An expected response m'boy, though not one that completely satisfies me I'm afraid," he sighed to the owl. The wizened man found the wise creatures to be acceptable conversationalists when his first option: Fawkes, was otherwise engaged. Neither the owls nor his companion ever did respond persay, but they were the _best_ of listeners.

He rose, gazing over the sprawling Hogwarts grounds visible from his office window as he considered his constantly amended plans for the boy. "I only hope he can find it in heart to forgive an old man for asking so much of one so young."

oooOoOoOooo

Once again Harry found himself in transit to the Leaky Cauldron after Vernon had left for work. Harry stepped off the triple decker bus onto the busy London street and paced towards the entrance to the dingy pub. He squinted briefly, his eyes still adjusting to the dimply lit room before he peered at each booth searching for his friend.

Even if Harry wasn't already so attuned to Fleur's magical aura, who, as a veela, possessed an even more conspicuous presence than a normal witch or wizard, it was a simple matter to follow the unsubtle glances of the other patrons leading to the statuesque blonde perched on her seat, finishing off a cup of tea.

"Hello, Fleur, have a good morning so far?" Harry greeted quietly, not wanting to draw attention to himself as he smiled his first genuine smile of the day.

"'Arry!" he wondered how his simple presence could make her so happy, "aside from 'ze 'ole room ogling me for 'ze last twenty minutes, it 'as indeed been an enjoyable morning." She answered with a sardonic role of her eyes. "Yourself?"

"Unfortunately can't say the same, Fleur, chores all morning. But my day is definitely looking up." He gave a pointed look at her attire, "It's no wonder half the guys in this place can't keep their eyes off of you."

The witch's navy blue cardigan draped around her light blue blouse did nothing to hide her graceful curves, and the off-white skirt that ended a bit above the knees showed off her fantastic legs,

She smiled graciously at the not so subtle compliment and rose. "Shall we go, 'zen? 'Ze tea is good but one 'zing I do miss about France is 'ze _coffee_." She said with a wistful sigh. Harry nodded and joined her as they entered the alleyway.

The previous afternoon, Harry had planned to shop for a couple pairs of trousers and shirts to relax and study in having long since grown tired of wearing Dudley's cast offs. Fleur had insisted on accompanying him on the trip citing the fact that she really had nothing better to do. Harry'd made a token effort when protesting, but they both knew that any extra time spent together could only be a good thing.

After searching Diagon for a while, the pair found a shop off the main alley that would suit their needs as it was owned by a young half-blood couple and carried a mix of muggle clothing and wizarding robes.

Harry had intended to only purchase a couple things upon entering the shop, but both he and Fleur agreed that some of the shorter shawl collared robes styled after muggle trends were both more practical to move around in, and much more aesthetically pleasing as well. Fleur in particular had been quite generous with her compliments, claiming how impressive a figure Harry cut in the different style.

He'd never been so blatantly eyed before, but as Fleur's gaze followed the young wizard as she shuffled him in and out of the dressing rooms to try on different colors and styles, he couldn't help but be flattered. The knowing grin of the shop owner behind the counter went unnoticed to the pair.

In addition to a set of grey, black, and burgundy knee length robes, Harry tried on several pairs of slacks and button-up shirts to match the robes as well as a couple pairs of cotton shorts and t-shirts just to relax in. Despite being extremely close to the young witch, Harry still found it a bit embarrassing to be buying underwear in front of her, something she took unrepentant joy in teasing him about.

"Didn't know you prefered boxers over briefs _'Arry_ , care to model these as well?" she breathed with lidded eyes. The resulting blush was clearly the reaction she was hoping for, but Harry couldn't quite find it in himself to be upset. It wasn't every day he got to witness such a carefree look on his friend's face.

Realizing she was having him on, he snarked back at the beautiful witch, "Very funny Fleur, you're not the one being paraded around like some kind of living mannequin." The retort had no real heat.

"Is 'zat so? Per'aps I need to do some modeling of my own 'zen?" before Harry could answer she pranced off into the racks of clothes only to return entering the dressing rooms with a pile of her own. Harry was intrigued.

When the beautiful blonde appeared once again Harry's jaw nearly hit the floor. "What do you 'zink _'Arry?_ " Fleur queried, twirling gracefully.

The positively devilish way those jeans hugged her ass was Harry's immediate thought; one he did not voice. Coughing lightly to regain his composure, he chose the safer reply of, "You obviously look fantastic in anything Fleur, but ah… you should definitely get those if you want them, my treat of course." Fleur's only answer was a seductive wink and to saunter back into the changing room, once more giving him the perfect view of her heart-shaped backside, epitomized even more by the dark blue jeans that looked practically _painted_ on.

By the end of their trip Harry's opinion of clothes shopping had risen several notches, at least in present company, and was looking forward to seeing some of Fleur's outfits as much as he was to finally having new clothes in his own size to wear. He wore a faded pair of jeans and a black collared shirt out of the store, restraining himself from incinerating his cousin's castoffs on the spot, choosing the much more responsible option of tossing them in the dumpster behind the shop.

"Shall we 'ead to my apartment, 'Arry? You _did_ say you were going to study a bit today; our summer can't be _all_ fun and games after all." Fleur said with a gentle smile.

At Harry's confirmation, the pair headed back to Diagon Alley. Fleur lead him down an unfamiliar cross-street which they followed for a couple minutes before turning onto a path that led up to an apartment complex wedged between the properties on either side. The simple grey multistory building looked far too narrow to house anything habitable but Harry had long since learned to not trust his eyes when it came to space in magical households.

"Let me key you to 'ze wards so you can come even if I'm not 'ere, after all, I will sometimes be at Gringotts in 'ze afternoons." The young witch raised her wand and closed her eyes, concentrating on an unseen force. After a moment Harry felt some of the ambient magic settle around him signaling what he assumed was his acceptance into the ward scheme. He smiled in thanks and crossed the threshold.

Fleur's apartment was sparse, as one would suspect from someone who had recently changed residence, yet he already felt more welcome in the spacious room than he ever had in his own 'home.' "Fleur, I know I've already thanked you but you really have no idea how much it means to me that you're opening your space up for me." The genuine emotion in Harry's voice brought a smile to Fleur's face.

She strolled over, giving him a light peck on the cheek. "And like I said before, it is _my_ pleasure to 'ave you 'ere, 'Arry." Harry simply shot her a crooked grin and nodded before taking out his trunk and unshrinking it while Fleur flicked her wand, causing her own purchases to arrange themselves in her closet. Despite being a one room flat, as with more high-end wizarding homes it had the living space of a fully furnished two-bedroom house, with a fully stocked kitchen and luxurious bathroom.

Harry, remembering the chaotic skirmish with Barty Crouch Jr. in his defense classroom removed several texts on transfiguration from his trunk, intent on touching up his theory before diving right into incorporating battle transfiguration into his magic arsenal. He briefly leafed through the books he had on the subject, deciding to review the baseline theory for next year's transfiguration class, having already reviewed the fourth year text at the end of last term. If he remembered correctly, this year they would be learning larger inanimate to animate transfiguration, most likely purposefully taught alongside simple animation charms in Flitwick's OWL level course. These two skills were the basis for using transfiguration both as a distraction as well as an offensive tool in combat.

With a plan of attack decided, he cracked open the fifth year text and settled on the couch diving right in, the sound of Fleur rummaging around her flat a much more welcome ambient noise than the beligerant shouts of the Dursleys.

oooOoOoOooo

This was Harry's routine for the next several days, rising before the sun, worked like a slave by his 'family' for hours before finally making his way to Fleur to spend the day together, either enjoying themselves exploring the various points of interest of magical London, or increasing his skill in magic.

The sheer amount of hidden cafés and local restaurants they found off the beaten path of Diagon Alley's main street was staggering, and was as much a new experience for Harry who had spent most of his life lacking any _real_ recreation, as it was for Fleur who was new to the country, and unfamiliar with what it had to offer. During this time, the pair found themselves getting closer as friends and perhaps even more, as they several shared intimate embraces and chaste kisses possibly indicated, yet neither had made a definitive attempt at taking their relationship to another level.

Currently, Harry sat hunched over a work desk situated in the center of Fleur's flat, wand raised with jade-green eyes boring into a short wooden rod being levitated above the surface of the table.

With a signal known only to the young wizard his eyes briefly closed before snapping open again, a tendril of unseen magic altered the molecular structure of the wood according to his visualized product. Grainy textured brown gained a metallic sheen as the ends narrowed down to a wicked point, leaving behind a flawless steel dart, nearly a foot long, hovering in the same location. The whole process had taken less than two seconds, a personal best for the young wizard made evident by the satisfied smirk adorning his face.

It had been nearly a week since Harry had first started training in Fleur's spacious apartment. Time that had obviously not been wasted. Transfiguration as a subject was traditionally favored by more scientifically-minded individuals, however, Harry's sheer magical power and detailed imagination allowed the prodigious wizard to perform transformations that would normally be out of his grasp.

Creating steel darts from a material of a similar size and shape as he had seconds before, served as a relatively simple excersise for the young wizard. However, his true goal was more practical in nature.

The darts served as _excellent_ projectiles.

In order to practically use them in combat, however, reducing the time the transformation took was of the highest importance. Harry had spent countless hours in the last week drilling various transformations, trying to reduce the cast time. In that endeavor he was very successful.

Harry had briefly explored the theory of more complex transfigurations to create sentient beasts. It was a branch of magic favored by many specialist in that field considering they could be commanded to attack or defend oneself in a duel, however in addition to being a bit beyond his skill, he found it did not fit his style as much as smaller scale transformations on objects to be used as projectiles.

Conjuration, a title that was somewhat misleading in the first place, implied creating something out of nothing, which so far has been impossible, even for magic. What the skill actually put into practice is the transfiguration of air into whatever object the wizard was trying to create.

What made the skill particularly difficult for the majority of wizards was the fact that the output required to turn gaseous matter into a solid was often beyond the average student was capable of. For those that managed to excel in transfiguration by supplementing proper imagination and intent for magical power, the lack a basic understanding of chemistry and the basics of matter most often led to failure.

Harry, who both possessed above-average levels of magical power for his age and who'd been supplementing his Transfiguration texts with basic muggle chemistry texts, understood the materials he was working with on a fundamental level. It was no wonder that he'd had greater success in his practical application of the magic.

Conjuration of more precious metals like silver or gold was still beyond him, however, organic materials like the wooden rods he began the entire process with were not. After much practice, he could now conjure several at once, free to transfigure and banish at will.

Harry flopped onto Fleur's couch with a huff. He had been studying and practicing for the greater part of the day, and Fleur was due to be back from Gringotts within the hour. The young witch had begun her work at the appraisal offices a couple days previously, so he did not have as much time with her as he would have liked. They'd at least have dinner together when she got back from work, a time which he cherished. Though he was making strides with his magical ability, the early mornings and commute were taking their toll, leaving Harry exhausted by the end of each day. He was beginning to worry that he couldn't keep up such a schedule for the entire summer.

Harry was hesitant to relax his ambitious schedule considering the very real danger being unprepared would pose to his life and those he cared for. But at this rate, he'd die from exhaustion before Voldemort even had the _chance_ to off him himself.

The thought however, sparked an idea in his head. It couldn't hurt to try….

"Dobby?"

 _Pop_

"The great and wonderful master Harry Potter has called Dobby!" The diminutive elf cried hysterically, "what can Dobby do for Master Harry Potter sir?" Harry tried not to roll his eyes at the many titles the elf had for him. He was almost reaching Dumbledore levels at this point.

"Dobby, please listen carefully, its very important."

To his relief, the elf ceased his energetic bouncing, bulbous eyes locked onto his savior. "First of all, I know I've told you before but if this is gonna work out you really need to call me Harry, or Master Harry if you prefer."

"Yes Master Harry Sir!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Close enough. Dobby, are you happy working for Hogwarts or would you prefer to be my personal house elf?" Dobby's eyes widened further, if that was even possible.

"Master Harry wants Dobby?" his reverent tone was making Harry second guess his decision but he soldiered on.

"Yes I do but if you would pref—"

"Dobby accepts," he cried grabbing the young wizard's extended hand. There was no flash of magic or anything else to signify the bond being formed, but Harry gained the unmistakable sense of ownership when he considered his smallest friend.

He wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, but at this point it was really too late to regret his decision. Harry shrugged inwardly.

"Dobby, do you remember the house where we first met? The one with my relatives living in it." Harry asked the excitable house elf.

Dobby nodded sheepishly, remembering the repercussions of his actions of that first night. "Dobby remembers, sir." Predicting his actions before he could take them, Harry snatched at the collar of the elf's oversized sweater before he could slam into the wall in self-flagellation.

Harry amended his first statement, "Actually your real first order, is you are never to punish yourself, if feel you've made a mistake come to me and we'll talk about it." The sound of a closing door had indicated Fleur's return, but she made no move to interrupt, though Dobby's next words did earn a soft giggle from the pretty witch.

"The great Harry Potter truly is a wonderful master! So forgiving and noble!"

"Sure, sure." Harry rolled his eyes for what seemed like the tenth time in the last minute. "Now every night there will be a piece of paper posted to the door of the refrigerator with a list of chores for me to do—"

"The bad family make the Great and noble Harry Potter do elf work!?" Dobby's horrorstruck look would have been comical if not for the situation. "Say no more, Master Harry Potter Sir! Dobby do!"

"That's wonderful, Dobby, but it's important that you _never_ be seen. If you are, I'll worry for your safety and mine as well. If you could do the chores on the list at night and have breakfast ready before they all get up it would save me a lot of trouble. Any time after that you can do as you wish unless I call you for something specifically, ok?"

Dobby nodded vigorously, "Can Dobby clean Harry Potter Sir's Flower's apartment on Dobby's free time?" He glanced over at Fleur who by this point had draped her arms intimately over Harry's shoulders. Dobby's name for Fleur earned a slight blush from the witch, but she did not relinquish her perch.

"If that's want you want, Dobby, and if it's ok with Fleur of course." Harry amended. She nodded with a soft smile, and Dobby popped away with a grin and a snap of his fingers.

"Who was your friend, _Oh great Master 'Arry Potter Sir_?" she purred in his ear. He could feel her lips curve into a grin at his obvious reaction, frankly, Harry found he didn't mind the form of address so much coming from his beautiful friend. He nudged her away playfully before answering with a laugh.

"Shush, you! Dobby's always been a bit fanatical, but I _did_ save him from having to serve the Malfoy family at the end of my second year. Though he _had_ been trying to save my life himself during that same year." He said. "Nearly ended up killing me a couple times too, now that think about it."

Fleur's nose had wrinkled a bit at the mention of the blonde boy, but her eyes widened a bit, hearing the last bit of Harry defending his friend. "Killing you? I'm sure 'zere's a story 'zere somewhere _non_?"

Harry paused for a moment, lost in thought as he recalled his eventful second year at Hogwarts. "Well, Isuppose it all started the summer before second year…."

oooOoOoOooo

Harry's recounting of his second year in detail was both thrilling and terrifying for Fleur. Before his story was even finished, she could confirm that the amount of deadly situations he had been in by the time he was sixteen years old put some wizards twice his age to shame.

By the time he had finished they had shifted on the couch so she was snuggled into his side, her soft curves molded to the harder planes of his body. While Fleur appeared quite content with their position, Harry was on cloud nine, wondering what he had done to earn the trust of this wonderful woman. His arm, wrapped around her slender shoulders pulled the beautiful witch even closer and rested his chin on top of her head, simply reveling in the moment.

"Fleur, you've become my closest friend in these last few weeks and we _have_ kissed a couple of times, but I know the French can be a bit more uh, _affectionate_ than I'm used to bu-"

Fleur interrupted him with a slender index finger covering his lips before he could begin rambling too much.

"Breathe, 'Arry, what is it you're trying to say." She questioned quietly.

"It's just… I have feelings for you Fleur… I mean, how could I not? You're amazing, so intelligent, you've taught me so much, and you're practically the most beautiful girl I've ever met. Will you… be my girlfriend Fleur?" He finished shyly.

" _Oui,"_ came her simple response, and the spark that had always been there between them became a thunderstorm. Her head tilted up and they paused briefly, cerulean blue eyes meeting smoldering jade green, before their lips met once more.

This kiss was _nothing_ like the previous playful pecks shared between the pair.

It was hungry and wanting, the culmination of several weeks of romantic tension. Fleur's tongue teased his lips and with a small gasp Harry allowed her entry as her tongue slowly caressed his own. Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he hoped the moment would never end, reclined on the couch with a gorgeous French veela perched on his lap kissing the life out of him.

He wrapped an arm gently around her waist, teasing a finger at the small of her back as she languidly continued making out with him, soft mews of appreciation making her pleasure obvious. Soon their passion waned and Fleur was left peppering his lips with featherlight pecks trailing down his jawline before once again burrowing into his neck content to just drink in his presence as he held her.

"That was… wow." Harry was at a loss for words as he felt his _girlfriend_ smirk into his neck.

"I took your breath away _non?"_ she murmured into his neck.

"You could say that."

She giggled, "You are a natural _'Arry,_ and it seems like _'zis_ little guy enjoyed it as well," she teased, brushing the obvious bulge in his trousers with the fingertips of a dainty hand.

"Little?!" Harry squawked indignantly earning a peal of laughter from Fleur.

"Kidding, of course, per'aps anozzer time 'zen? 'zat eez moving a bit fast _non?"_ She added with a wink.

"I agree, wouldn't want you to think I was cheap," Harry joked, getting over his embarrassment, "though I wouldn't be opposed to another snog _any_ time you want." He added.

"Ew, _non,_ 'Arry, 'zat word, _snog…_ eet sounds so _vulgar_ ," Fleur corrected, crinkling her nose in distaste, " _non,_ you will _kiss_ me, not 'zat _ozzer_ word"

Harry snorted at her unwillingness to say 'snog' a second time but didn't voice his thoughts, "Oh no! I guess I'll just have to settle for _kissing_ my beautiful girlfriend instead. The sacrifices I make," he sighed in mock exasperation, pecking Fleur on the lips taking the heat out of his teasing. He rose unwillingly from the couch.

"It's about time for me to head back to the Dursley's anyway," he said, noting the time; this time his dejection was genuine. "Mind if I borrow your shower?"

"Of course not 'Arry."  
His muffled voice continued from behind the door, "There's a book I found referenced several times in the Hogwarts library and I wanted to see if they have a copy somewhere in Knockturn alley; with Dobby taking care of my chores I'll probably have a lie in and get a later start to my day so don't be worried if I'm not here by the time you get back from work ok?"

She frowned momentarily, seeming to come to a decision, "Ok, just be careful 'Arry, can't 'ave my boyfriend getting 'imself 'urt so soon now can I?" She called over the sound of the falling water.


	8. Chapter 8

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

It was when the curses started flying in the crowded room that Harry admitted he may have been a bit overconfident with his newfound freedom. But to understand what lead to the boy's current situation one must go back to when he decided to take a jaunt down Knockturn Alley

 _1 hour earlier_

Not having to wake up at the crack of dawn to serve a family of spoiled bigots sure made for a significantly better start to the day. Harry made a mental note to buy Dobby the fluffiest pair of socks he could find, the little guy certainly deserved it.

He observed the people around him as he strolled down the dank streets of Knockturn alley, face hidden behind a cloak with a hood enchanted with an _obscurus_ charm; Fleur's work of course. She really _was_ a talented witch, and by some miracle she wanted to be with _him_ of all people. Harry shook his head in disbelief.

As beggars and hags alike approached him, a flare of his magic was all it took dissuade any further attempts. Despite being barely past noon, the alley itself seemed to block out all natural light, leaving behind nothing but a dingy labyrinth of alleyways concealed in shadow. As Harry traveled further away from the colorful shopfronts and laughter of Diagon Alley the air seemed to grow colder and heavier, the atmosphere grew opressive. He couldn't help but cast a furtive glance over his shoulder, feeling eyes watching him, yet when he turned he saw nobody, not that that meant much to magicals to which invisibility was but a flick of a wand away.

His destination? The Raven's claw, a bookstore located on a branch of the main Knockturn Alley, said to carry information on some of the more 'esoteric' branches of magic. Sirius had mentioned it in passing when he was talking about his old family, not that Harry thought that his godfather had ever intended for him to actually _visit_ the place, but what Padfoot didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

It was at this shop that Harry wished to find a book referenced in several texts he had found in the Hogwarts Library's restricted section. Despite being referenced briefly in a plethora of texts, the book itself was no longer carried on the Library's shelves for some reason. Having personally witnessed the resurrection of the Dark Lord, Harry felt it prudent to know more about how one would go about cheating death, after all, if he did it once, what's to say he wouldn't do it again? The book, titled _Secrets of the Darkest Art,_ by Owle Bullock, was said to have more information on what Harry had learned was called a Homunculus Resurrection Ritual, the ritual magic used by Lord Voldemort to return to his body. Harry was going out on a limb, but knowing the details behind the ritual itself would be a good first step in knowing how to counteract his methods to avoid death.

After turning down a final side street, he arrived at the shop, noting the chipped paint and unwashed windows, caked with grime, before crossing the threshold. A dull chime came from a well-worn bell hanging by the door as he entered the shop.

Its interior was a stark contradiction to its unkempt storefront. Old oak wood floors, well-polished to a dull shine, with dark, looming bookshelves covering the walls filled with old tomes and forgotten knowledge. Old stylized lanterns were hung intermittently along the walls, casting flickering shadows across the room. Despite the multitude of books filling the shelves, Harry found what he was looking for surprisingly quickly, the shelves having been organized by date and then alphabetized within each era. There was but one copy, and Harry inwardly cringed at the amount he assumed this single text would cost him, but was resolved that his cause was a worthy one.

Taking the ancient tome off of the shelf, Harry paced towards a decrepit old man sitting behind a well-cared-for counter.

"Lower your hood fool!" the old man barked out the order, sharp eyes a contrast to the rest of his withered appearance, "You should know by now that this is a place knowledge and nothing more, I don't sell to young upstart dark wizard's dabbling in magic they don't understand!"

Despite being hesitant to reveal his identity, Harry didn't really see another option, "I'm no dark wizard, Sir, just looking for knowledge as you say." He said quietly as he removed his hood.

"Ho ho… Mr. Potter…" The man leaned back in his chair in consideration, "It's not every day the _boy who lived_ graces your shop with his presence. What's a young wizard such as yourself doing so deep in Knockturn Alley?" The slight mockery of Harry's moniker actually endeared the man more to the young wizard as he too found the title pretentious.

"Like I said before, Sir, I need to know the weapons being used by my enemies, 'friends close and enemies closer' and all that jazz." Came Harry's careful response.

The old man roared with laughter, "Powerful enemies you 'ave there too eh, Potter? Alright then! That'll be forty galleons then, still 'aff ta make a living now don't I?" Then in a quieter voice, "Be careful with that information there, Potter, some people would kill for some of the secrets held in that there tome."

Harry handed over a sack containing the proper amount and shrunk the book down, slipping it into his pocket, assured that a man selling this type of literature wouldn't bat an eye at a bit of a underaged magic.

"Thank you, Sir," He called over his shoulder as he strode out of the shop, letting out a huff of air now that that ordeal was over with.

oooOoOoOooo

The trip having taken a much shorter amount of time than Harry had assumed it would, the black haired wizard took his time as he made his way back to the main street of Knockturn alley.

It was as he was taking the last couple of turns that would lead him back to the main path that something caught his eye. In a small alcove right off the main street Harry noticed a steady stream of witches and wizards entering a stairwell that seemed to lead to a level below the adjacent building. He could just catch the flickering orange glow of a well-lit room and the muffled drone one would expect from a crowded area from the bottom of the staircase.

Normally, Knockturn was sparsely populated at best, and the areas especially off the main street usually only had the occasional huddled group of one or two witches or wizards. Harry's natural curiosity came to play as he wondered what would cause such a gathering, and having an hour or so before Fleur got off her shift, paced slowly over to the stairwell to see what all the fuss was about.

From this vantage point Harry could clearly hear a raucous crowd, the rise and fall of volume reminiscent of his school Quidditch matches, but logic told him it wasn't Quidditch being played in this underground Knockturn alley chamber. Curiosity getting the better of him, he descended the stone steps following the tunnel that opened into the main room of the underground complex just as something provoked the mass of robed magicals into a roar of applause.

Upon entering the main chamber, the stench of sweat and alcohol assaulted his nostrils as well as the sweltering heat that could only be created by a mass of bodies in close proximity. The massive room appeared to be styled after an old fashioned coliseum, only on a smaller scale. A circular pit sat in the center of the room, sunken to a level below the surrounding crowd, who were arranged in slanted stadium seating, not that anyone in the tumultuous crowd was actually seated.

A deafening gong of metal striking metal brought Harry out of his observations and he focused on the source of the sound, witnessing two men situated in what could only be an arena trading spells, the force of which could be felt even at the highest levels where Harry watched on in awe.

For all his time spent in the Wizarding world he had never seen such carnal and unrestrained sport. Conjured spiked iron cudgels were being flung one after the other by the topless fighter on the far side of the pit. Fresh wounds littered his muscular torso as he forced his magic with obvious fatigue, another deafening gong sounded, as the banished weapons collided with a transfigured solid shield of metal used to protect the second combatant from being bludgeoned.

The defender had clearly noticed a lull in the barrage of heavy weaponry. A deft flick of his wand and the stationary cudgels now lying around were transformed into a dozen knives of the same material and sent speeding back to the bare-chested fighter. The deadly volley of sharp projectiles was followed by a trio of concussion curses, all of which were blocked by an opaque grey shield obscuring the stocky man from view.

The closer fighter, who Harry could now tell was of Asian descent, and possessed a much slenderer frame that suited his more agile style of combat, peppered the shield with a variety of weaker curses to test out its weaknesses. He paused briefly before launching a deluge of water from his wand which slipped under his opponent's shield.

A tight twirl and jab with his wand had the pool erupting into clouds of steam surrounding the other combatant. The spell itself was unfamiliar to an entranced Harry, but the intent was obvious. Cries of agony filled the chamber, but more importantly the man's shield fell at last. The stocky man, feet now scalded by the boiling water had no chance of defending against the precisely aimed bone-breaker that rocketed towards his position.

The curse struck true, cleanly snapping the wrist of his wand arm. The man's screams of pain were drowned out by the cacophony of jeers and cheers from the rowdy crowd, worked into a frenzy both by the promise of a good show and bets won, as Harry clearly witnessed galleons changing hands. He couldn't look away as the man was blasted into the back wall by a powerful banishing charm knocking him out and ending the battle, his battered form nearly ignored by all as the victor raised his fist in the air with a shout to the roar of the crowd.

This was absolutely insane! He'd heard of fight clubs in the muggle world, but he'd never imagined anything like _this!_

His inner musings were interrupted by a burly hand on his shoulder.

"Potter! How _kind_ of you to deliver yourself so readily to me on my own turf," came a deep gravelly voice from behind Harry's right shoulder.

It was at this point Harry realized he hadn't remembered to raise his hood again after leaving _The Raven's Claw_. Perhaps walking blindly into an unknown location in the middle of Knockturn alley wasn't his brightest idea.

The voice, one he recognized from Voldemort's rebirth, continued. "Now, you're gonna' turn slowly and walk in front of me and we're gonna' walk out of here real calm-like. Understood, _boy_?" Harry could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath and cringed as he tried to think of a way out of this mess. The option was taken out of his hands when he heard a commanding voice shout sharply.

"Harry! Duck!" He didn't question the command, diving to the ground as a crackling scarlet spell slammed into the Death Eater's back sending him tumbling down the tiered stadium seats. The first curse being thrown in the crowd seemed to have set off a chain reaction as a mob mentality set in. Curses started flying bathing the crowded chamber with flashing multicolored lights. It seemed the Death eater wasn't alone as Harry could make out several cloaked figures fighting their way through the crowd towards his position. He turned towards what he thought was the exit but visibility was practically zero in the frenzied masses, but before he could be buried in bodies a firm hand gripped his arm, the same voice that saved him earlier who he could now identify as female shouted in his ear, "Follow me, Harry!"

Tugging him along, parting the crowd with abundant use of flinging hexes, the pair made their way towards the stairway and freedom, three hooded figures hot on their heels. Now clear of the suffocating wave of bodies, he could barely make out the silhouette of his savior as he followed her up into the dim lighting of the ground level of Knockturn alley.

She was of short stature, slender with an athletic build and a hint of subtle curves leading to a particularly nice bum and legs. Harry mused briefly that such an observation was incredibly inappropriate considering both his current situation and the fact that he was happily taken.

The petite witch turned as they leaped up the stairs, firing three separate curses at the pursuing Death Eaters. A manic grin was plastered across her pixie-like features as striking electric blue hair styled in an undercut comb-over billowed with her movements. These observations were made in a split second as the first two curses missed bodies but sent shards of stone and shrapnel flying in every direction, while the last one, a particularly nasty version of the cutting curse designed to cauterize whatever wound it caused, bisected the lead hooded pursuer's arm from his body with the sickening sizzle and stench of burning flesh.

He went down.

Hard.

His two companions merely stepped over the man writhing and wailing in pain at the bottom of the steps and renewed pursuit.

But by this point Harry's unnamed savior had released his arm leaving him free to cast; he let lose a salvo of bludgeoners before banishing debris littering the alley ground merely trying to slow his pursuers down. She let lose a giggle that had him questioning her sanity as she joined his assault, slinging spells faster than he could recognize them.

Only now she was no longer running. Seeming to like their odds, at least until reinforcements came for their opponents, she boldly turned on the two Death eaters.

" _Flagro Flagello"_ came the witch's whispered incantation as an incandescent whip of fire sprouted from her wand, which she wielded like some kind of demented lion tamer, showing no worry for the oncoming spellfire. She made zero use of shield spells, dodging around flying curses with inhuman grace and contortions of her body that Harry would have believed impossible if he weren't seeing it for himself. The fire whip had wrapped around the first Death Eater singeing a circular burn around his restrained legs sending him to the ground screaming in pain.

His cries were ended by a silent stunner, it seemed the witch at least showed _some_ restraint, not that Harry would pity the man; he _was_ a Death Eater after all. The second hooded figure began flinging spells with renewed fervor after seeing his partner fall unconscious. What harry recognized as a desecration curse flew from his wand followed by a silent _incarcerous_ and a heavily regulated cutting curse known as 'the cleaver'. The first curse was deftly sidestepped while simultaneously sending a silent cutter, severing the ropes and dancing out of the way of the ribbon of dark energy, guaranteed to prevent the healing of its inflicted injuries. Ignoring the property damage caused by the flying spells, the prodigious witch peppered the last man with a multitude of joke spells ending with a tripping jinx followed by a cruel hiss of " _Osdetero!"_

Huh… A bone-pulverizer, Harry hadn't had the chance to try that one out yet, but judging from the way the last hooded figure collapse clutching his mangle shoulder, it was quite effective.

Looked pretty painful…

The young wizard was brought out of his thoughts as he noticed that they had more company.

So focused was she on her opponent that she was almost blindsided by the telltale emerald flare of the killing curse coming from a nearby alley. Luckily, Harry _was_ paying attention and tackled the diminutive witch to the ground, hearing the familiar sound of rushing air he now associated with the infamous unforgivable pass overhead. His blood froze in his veins as he realized how close they both had been to an early end.

"Mkay! Time to go!" Harry exclaimed hurriedly, yanking the witch to her feet as several more hooded figures rushed out of the alley, wands blazing.

"Roger that, Harry!" his companion laughed, "let's blow this bitch!" She shouted, slinging an overpowered _bombarda_ at a nearby stone wall, sending debris flying into the group, buying them enough time to bolt through the main street of Knockturn alley, past the archway and into Diagon Alley proper, lungs heaving from the effort of the extended skirmish.

Despite wanting to bask in the once again clear skies, the pair didn't dare stop and with Harry leading the way, he sprinted his way to what was coming to be his safe-haven; Batliver drive had never looked so welcoming. Crossing the threshold, they both lay sprawled on the clean floors, clothing torn, hair mussed, covered in soot and both heaving great lungful's of air. Not to mention the numerous scrapes and lacerations from the prolonged fight through the dingy streets of Knockturn Alley.

Before Harry could even begin to make any sense of the series of events that led up to this moment, a chuckle came from his left, after a moment it developed into an unrepressed belly laugh complete with snorts and all as his companion attempted to catch her breath. Harry just stared unrepentantly and the young woman at his side, as he now realized she couldn't be much older than a Hogwarts graduate. He noted briefly that her hair, formerly an electric blue was now a light shade of pink, matching her face, flushed in exertion.

"Now _that's_ the kind of action I've been looking for!" she managed to shout through gales of laughter, seemingly ignorant of the very real danger they had just escaped from, the witch continued. "Joining the old man's bloody order was the _best_ decision I've made in a long time!" resting her head back on the floor in bliss. Harry responded with what he felt was an appropriate reaction given the situation.

"Who the bloody fucking hell _are_ you?!"

" _I_ would like 'ze answer to 'zat question as well." Came a voice from behind them both, reminding Harry whose floor he was currently sprawled on. He tilted his head back, giving an innocent grin to his girlfriend, who did _not_ look happy at his injured and disheveled state.

"Ah… Fleur, I can explain…" Harry began sheepishly scratching at his hairline with a single index finger.

The woman, seemingly oblivious to the awkward atmosphere, seemed to forget her exhaustion and rolled backwards into a standing position. Giving a friendly one handed wave she greeted the pair.

"Wotcher Harry, Wotcher Fleur, the name's Tonks!" the witch said, with a grin that looked entirely at home on her soot smudged face. Harry and Fleur gave a glance before Fleur attempted a response.

"'E...'ello Tonks, per'aps you should start from 'ze beginning, starting with 'ow you know boz' of us by name?"

The newly-named Tonks, nodded emphatically, plopping herself down on the couch like she owned the place, propping her combat boot-clad feet up on the arms before starting with a more detailed introduction.

"Hmm, well as I said before, Tonks is my surname but that's all anyone'll call me if they know what's good for 'em." She started eyeing them both as if daring them to contradict her. They both noted her hair shifting from her usual electric blue to a tinge of angry red at the tips before returning as she continued her tale. "I should probably start with the fact that I've been following Harry for the past week or so on Dumbledore's orders." She stated unrepentantly.

"Knew it… meddling old man…" Harry mumbled in interruption.

This earned him a crooked grin from Tonks but she otherwise gave no other response besides continuing, "As I said, I've been assigned the day watch by Dumbledore's order which I assumed would just be another boring guard duty but turned out to be the best fuckin' job I coulda asked for, ten outa' ten would definitely guard again, if you know what I mean." The couple just stared at the witch, both considering if she was safe to be around people. "Anyway my official job is an Auror… well former-Auror. Actually I'm not sure what I am right now, ya' see, I'm currently suspended for use of excessive force on a pureblood 'cus the bloody corrupt ministry lets racist pureblood assholes that lead this country get away with physically assaulting a young girl just because she was a muggleborn." Tonk's hair had turned a fiery red during her rant. " _Anyway,_ because of _that_ little incident I'm on leave indefinitely until I'm once again 'fit for duty,' whatever that means,"

The spastic fomer-Auror-turned-bodyguard paused her story to make sure that her audience was still listening. Judging from their vacant stares she at least had their attention, though in Harry's case it was because of her absolute whirlwind of a personality.

"Well _that_ is what lead me to approach Dumbledore and his little vigilante group, which is just about the _worst_ kept secret next to the chamber of secrets."

Harry silently agreed with her but didn't interrupt.

"Anyway, I had nothing better to do and thought I could see some action since I was no longer an active duty Auror and _how right was I!"_ She finished enthusiastically.

Keeping up with this chick's constant mood swings was giving him whiplash. Harry, who was slouched in a chair to the side of the lounging Auror added his two knuts.

"So you've been following me for the past week or so, huh? I thought I felt someone watching me, but always assumed I was imagining it. Anyway, should you really be telling us all of this, if you spent all that time tailing me secretively? Not that I'm not grateful for the save, cus' I definitely am but..."

Tonks waved her hand back and forth dismissively, "Nah, not really a problem. Order members usually have to sign a contract of loyalty, but the Aurors among us already have non-disclosure agreements with the ministry, they would interfere with each other if Alby made us take multiple oaths. Besides you proved today that you can take care of yourself moderately well though you could be a bit more careful with when you decide to wander into the fight pits," she paused, reconsidering, "or don't. I really wouldn't mind another brawl like that!" She grinned at the last bit, a sense of anticipation building.

"Speaking of 'ze fight, would you mind clueing me into 'ow _'zat_ came about?" Fleur interjected for the first time since Tonks started speaking.

"Uhh, maybe you should take this one Harry, _your_ angry girlfriend and all," Tonks laughed sheepishly.

"Gee, _thanks_ Tonks." Came the sarcastic reply.

Harry briefly summarized the events leading up to Harry and Tonks crashing into Fleur's home as she began healing his wounds, beginning with his successful visit to _The Raven's Claw,_ and detailing their running skirmish throughout Knockturn alley. By the end of his tale, Fleur's head was buried in her hands, as if hiding from the world, fingers grasping at her perfect blonde hair.

"I'm going to be a widower before my one week anniversary!" She cried dramatically into her hands. Harry couldn't help but snort at that.

"One of the perks of dating Harry Potter babe!" Harry snickered madly as Tonks watched the couple in amusement. Seemingly coming to a decision, she hopped up off the couch and strode into the bathroom, calling over her shoulder.

"I'm gonna' use your shower, we'll talk more after. Hope ya' don't mind!"

Harry once again met his girlfriend's gaze before commenting, "Well…she's… nice? Absolutely fucking mental, but nice." Fleur simply flopped back in her chair, having had enough excitement for one day just _listening_ to the pair.


	9. Chapter 9

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

While the shower was running Fleur had left to rummage through her closet in an attempt to find something that would fit their new houseguest. During the battle spanning several streets of Knockturn alley Tonks' black skinnyjeans and matching pink Floyd band t-shirt were ripped and singed in so many places that attempting to repair them with magic was a lost cause. Harry's clothes were in a similar state, but since the bathroom was currently occupied by the witch in question, he was resolved to change later.

Left alone to his thoughts, he took a moment to consider the bubbly ex-auror. She'd admitted to following him for past week, on Dumbledore's orders no less, but has done nothing to stop him from traipsing around Diagon Alley he pleased.

Frankly, Harry didn't understand her all all. The witch was a walking contradiction, like no one he'd ever met before, not that that was really a bad thing.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted at Fleur's return. V-neck dark blue blouse and stylish ripped jeans in hand, his girlfriend waltzed across the room with her usual inhuman grace and rapped her knuckles on the bathroom door.

"Miss Tonks, I'm leaving a change of clothes on 'ze counter, 'zey might be a bit big on you but for now 'zey should do." Fleur called over the sound of running water. The only response was a bark of laughter as if Tonks was in on a joke the couple was unaware of.

"I'm sure whatever you brought will fit _just_ fine! Thanks though." Her voice echoed out of the room. Harry cocked an eyebrow over at Fleur in question, but she merely shrugged in dismissal.

Fleur had nearly half a foot over their guest and was quite a bit curvier around the hips and chest. Harry found it hard to believe that anything the veela owned would fit as well as Tonks believed, but it wasn't really a huge deal. dismissing it as unimportant, Fleur strolled over to Harry giving him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, finally having a chance to fuss over him a bit.

"You're sure you are unharmed? I really do worry you know; I should have been there." Fleur berated herself. Her sparse knowledge of healing was adequate for the small lacerations that adorned his arms and chest, leaving only a slightly sprained ankle that was out of her comfort zone to heal.

Harry merely gave her a roguish grin, " _Relax,_ Fleur, I had everything under control," He continued at her deadpan look, " _anyway,_ Tonks was there so I really had nothing to worry about."

" _Oui!_ But you didn't _know_ she was 'zere! Of all 'ze idiotic ideas, what possessed you to wander into some sort of underground _coliseum_ in 'ze middle of Knockturn Alley?! I may be from 'ze continent but even I 'ave 'eard what goes on in 'zat place!" During their conversation neither had noticed the sound of the shower had ceased, and Fleur's rant was interrupted by the subject of said rant.

" _Relax,_ Aphrodite, even if I _wasn't_ there I'm sure the boy-wonder over here would have found a way outta' there. That's what he's known for isn't it? All he needed was a distraction that I was _all_ too happy to provide." The seated pair turned to the smirking auror, only to double take at the voluptuous woman standing in front of them that had _no_ trouble filling out Fleur's blouse and jeans. The only thing keeping them from drawing their wands on the stranger was the familiar crass speech, and signature electric blue buzzed combover, though her hair now seemed to be nearly twice as long as before and fell just past her shoulders in loose curls.

Harry and Fleur both gave her an appreciative once-over, though still wary at the significant change to the older witch. Noticing both their stares, the now showered and changed witch glanced down.

"What did I forget my bra or something?" she asked, curious at the stares. Harry broke out of his trance and posed the question both were thinking.

"Um… Tonks? You seem to have… _grown_ a bit while in the shower, I mean I've heard of growth spurts but this is a bit absurd." He said, eyeing the older witch with obvious curiosity.

"Oh! That's easy, I'm a metamorphmagus!" She answered simply, causing Harry further confusion, but a gasp from his left told him that his girlfriend understood the significance of this title. He glanced between the two beautiful witches, prompting them to answer his unasked question. Tonks flopped down next to him as Fleur began to explain.

"Per'aps this would be as good a time as any to explain my 'eritage as well Harry, especially if we are to be together seriously as I 'ope to be."

Gaining a smile from the young wizard, and seeing Tonks was content to let her speak she continued.

"You know of course 'zat I 'ave veela blood _oui?"_

A nod from Harry and a greater attention from the metamorph beside him was the only response.

"What you may or may not be aware of is 'zat veela always breed true, a daughter of a veela is always a veela. _Mon_ _maman_ is veela, as well as my grandmozzer' and so on. True to 'ze trend, I too am full-blooded veela. 'Zis means several 'zings, some of which are significant to yourself." Fleur explained, smiling at her boyfriend.

"First of all, is 'ze manifestation of 'ze powers of 'ze veela at 'ze age of puberty which onsets on a more exact timetable 'zan a normal witch's whose age of maturity can vary. A veela will often look significantly younger 'zan 'zeir actual age until 'ze onset of 'zeir physical maturity, which happens both at an accelerated pace as well as comparatively later in their teens. 'Zis includes 'ze allure you are familiar wiz', access to our spirit-fire, as well as an avian transformation similar to 'ze animagus ability 'zat can occur when we are agitated. The delayed maturation is believed to be in order to give 'ze adolescent veela time to gain enough strength to protect themselves from those unable to withstand the allure."

The 'with various levels of success' went unsaid. "Our control over 'zis is much worse right after 'ze maturation but gets significantly better wiz' age." Harry only sat listening attentively, enraptured by the details of Fleur's heritage, of which he had nothing but a brief understanding before. Tonks, seemingly just as interested remained at his side, with a contemplative look on her face for once. Fleur continued, reassured that Harry would respectfully listen until the end of her tale.

"'Ze veela of old had certain natural inclinations that made them lucrative to be bought and sold as slaves by powerful lords," Fleur began again, a dark look crossing her face, twisting her beautiful features into a terrifying yet no less enticing mask. A look that was matched by both Harry and Tonks.

"Back in those times, 'ze veela tended to form covens around a single male mate, making polyamory fairly common among sister "wives." 'Ze choosing of mates was meant to be a wonderful and beautiful thing, and only occurred after the consent of all involved parties creating families within 'ze major veela enclaves. But 'ze slavers soon found a way to force 'ze bond through corrupted dark rituals, and _owning_ a veela coven became a sought-after commodity for the wealthy Lords who bought from the slave traders."

By this point Harry had slipped his hand into hers in support, and surprisingly, Tonks had risen and done the same on her left. Harry might have found this a bit odd, but it was obvious that social constructs meant very little to their guest. With such a heavy topic being discussed any extra support for his girlfriend was alright in his books.

Fleur gave them both a soft smile and continued. "To put it lightly, 'ze conflict following 'ze increase in veela abductions was long and bloody, resulting in large amounts of casualties on boz' sides. Despite being 'ze instigators, 'zis is 'ze most likely reason for the prejudice still rampant in some countries against those of veela heritage. 'Ze largest remaining enclaves are currently located in France and Bulgaria, as 'zese countries 'ave much less prejudice against our people 'zan ozzers." She finished with a bittersweet smile, earning a comforting squeeze of her hand from both her companions.

"'Ze reason I'm telling you all of 'zis 'Arry, is 'zat 'zough coven's are much less common 'zan before, it is still in our nature to seek out a mate, as well possessing a tendency to form sisterhoods around that single powerful wizard." Fleur clarified, giving Harry a searching look. "You must understand 'Arry, I do not tell you 'zis to force you into a decision, nor are you absolutely required to take multiple lovers… just, if you do feel a connection wiz' someone… don't fight 'ze magic." She finished with a grin, but then it faltered a bit as a rare hint of insecurity graced her features.

Harry inwardly rolled his eyes. What? Did she think he wouldn't be interested in her anymore after learning about her heritage? How absurd! Realizing she was still waiting for a response, he brought her hand to his lips.

"It's a lot to take in Fleur, but…" Her face fell, mentally berating himself for making her worry, Harry gathered his thoughts and started again, "Fleur, first I wanted to thank for you for trusting me enough to share so much of your heritage with me, it couldn't have been easy." A small smile once again graced her face. "As for mating for life and taking multiple partners, a standard relationship alone is a new thing for me. Hell, we just got together a week ago, but it's definitely something I wouldn't be opposed to in the future."

He grinned, "Besides, this is as much a part of you as your brilliant mind or your distain for English cuisine, how could I not love it." His eyes widened as he noticed his slip of the tongue, but before he could amend it, Fleur's lips were on his own, locked in a passionate kiss making her similar feelings known.

The moment was interrupted by a shrill catcall as the third person in the room made herself known once again. "Damn, you two move fast huh?" She teased the couple with an unrepentant grin. They broke apart, cheeks enflamed with embarrassment at getting carried away with an audience.

Tonks sobered for a moment and in a rare show of sincerity addressed Fleur, "I joke a lot but I really appreciate you sharing that with me as well, Fleur, it's not every day you meet someone who can really understand what we go through. You must be a kindred spirit of sorts." The older witch finished with a soft smile.

Harry furrowed his brows for a moment before he snapped his fingers. "That's right! I got so caught up in Fleur's story I forgot how this whole thing got started, you said you were a metamo…me—"

"Metamorphmagus," Tonks corrected with a smile, "a bit of a mouthful 'aint it?"

"Right, so… what does that mean, and what does it have to do with Fleur, what did you what did she mean by you being a kindred spirit?" Harry said, ticking off his questions on his fingers.

"Despite being much rarer than veela, Metamorphmagi, Metamorphs for short, were treated very much the same way, for similar reasons. We're not another species persay, but a true metamorph may as well be. Hmm… well how to explain…" the vibrant-haired beauty mused to herself. "Are you aware of the limitations of human transfiguration? If I remember correctly that's one of the first things that McGonagall goes over with the first years yeah?" she queried.

The seemingly random topic took him by surprise before he answered, "Yeah, that, _and_ I just revised all my transfiguration work so it's fresh in my mind." Harry paused for a moment recalling the specific passage. "If I remember correctly, a witch or wizard can partially transfigure themselves, giving them certain animalistic features but a complete human transformation into an animal will possess only the mental capability of the animal they transform into, barring the animagus transformation of course, which deters most from attempting complete human transformations. Hmm, there was also something about how it's hard to alter physical appearance when it comes to human features, something about your identity interfering with the magic but I don't quite remember that part." Tonks nodded at his answer.

"You're more knowledgeable than most your age, something I should have guessed considering how you handled yourself in the alley earlier," she joked with a quirk of the lips. "To answer your question yes, a witch or wizard's ego, or sense of self, completely interferes with magic that is used to alter one's appearance, the magic just doesn't stick, and growing your hair is entirely impossible without a potion, otherwise there would be no ugly wizards walking around and we all know _that's_ not true," Tonks lectured with a smile mirrored by Fleur and Harry who were listening on with interest.

"Metamorphmagi, on the other hand, are the acception to the rule. Others would need polyjuice or cosmetic elixirs to change their appearance, whereas I…"

Harry watched in wonder as Tonks' skin began to ripple slightly, gaining a cooler undertone while her longer hair quivered and began to darken and recede, the shaved left side growing to match the length in a chaotic disarray. Her shoulder's broadened while her arms gained a bit of musculature, facial features becoming more masculine to match the frame. The entire process took no more than a couple seconds and was a smooth, natural transition entirely unreminiscent of the grotesque, painful transformation of the polyjuice potion. Before Harry was an exact copy of himself, down to the lightning bolt scar, peaking out from beneath Tonks' bangs.

"…Don't." the smirking likeness of Harry finished matter-of-factly.

"Fuckin' 'ell," Harry swore. He had experience with polyjuice firsthand, but it was an entirely different thing to be seated across from a perfect copy of yourself, especially in women's clothing.

"I know right?" She answered excitedly, looking over her form, "It takes knowing someone fairly well to get the replica correct but luckily, I've been on guard duty watching you for the past week, I can even change all the naughty bits, though I can't be sure everything's ah…. _Accurate_." She said with a wink.

"I'm curious as well _'Arry,_ " Fleur added flirtatiously, then turning to the older witch impersonating her boyfriend, "I'm impressed, Tonks, I was aware of what your ability entailed, but seeing it in person sure is something else."

Harry was too busy being amazed over the potential of Tonks' incredible ability to be embarrassed by the teasing.

"Bloody hell, Tonks, that's fucking amazing! No wonder you became an auror, with an ability like that I can imagine how dangerous you would be to criminals. You could infiltrate and sabotage criminal organizations and be out again without anyone even noticing." He mused, eyes wide.

Tonks' who's smile had fallen thinking he would obsess on living out his fantasies like everyone else who she'd shown her ability to, brightened up again realizing he appreciated how dangerous her ability truly could be, her opinion of the young wizard went up even further than it already was. Shaking out of her thoughts, she responded.

"Yup, they never know what hits 'em! Only thing that's missing is the glasses!" she smirked, summoning his glasses off his face with a flick of her wand and donning them, only to yank them off immediately. "Cor! Harry, are these actually prescription? Why haven't you had your sight corrected?!" She cried.

"Wait… that's a thing!? I was told when I was like three that I would need glasses for life." Harry answered.

He looked between the two witches sitting with him and saw that Fleur's expression matched Tonks' incredulity. Apparently she was just as unaware of his poor sight as well.

"'Arry… I 'zought 'zey were enchanted glass lenses," She said with an apologetic look, "most magical children get their vision corrected early in life, but I forgot 'zat you wouldn't 'ave being muggle raised. I assumed one of your professor's or school nurse would 'ave 'ad it done when you first came to 'Ogwarts."

Harry waved her apologies off distractedly. "Don't worry about it, Fleur, I don't blame you, but it seems _some_ people have been neglecting their duties a bit." He placated his distraught girlfriend. "Though Ron at least should have mentioned it at some point since he knows how bad my vision is _,_ " He muttered quietly.

"Where can I have my eyesight fixed?" Harry asked, moving the conversation along.

Tonks answered this time, "St. Mungos will do it for free, but a Magical Optometrist is specialized for the procedure and have other optical related stuff like the type of glasses we _thought_ you were wearing this whole time.

Harry pinched his nose in exhasperation. "What kind of enchantments can you put on them?"

"All kinds of stuff. Some get magnifying lenses, some quidditch players use the ones that repell moisture, and I know for a fact that the monocle boss-lady Bones uses can see a visual representation of certain magic. I'd be happy to take you to get the procedure done sometime over the next couple of days," She added as an afterthought.

Harry nodded, seeing how useful some of those things could be, not that he ever planned to wear glasses ever again.

"Thanks! Sounds like a plan, glasses are a pain in the arse." He said with a grin, sobering as he remembered something important. "Say, Tonks, you've been working for Dumbledore right? So why are you so cool with me running all over the place? Didn't he want me stuck at Privet Drive all summer?"

She scoffed, "If it was up to Dumbledore you'd be kept shrunk in a box hung from his neck, that prison you stay in all summer is just his backup choice," the witch said sarcastically. "You forget I've been watching all week. If that was me stuck with those bloody muggles I'd have cursed that fat tub o' lard on the first day, you're showing more restraint than I would've that's for sure." Harry grinned in appreciation for the metamorph's ire on his behalf. "Anyway, I told you earlier I saw how you handled yourself today, with that kind of potential, it'd be a waste not to hone it. You could be a dangerous wizard Harry," She smirked deviously, "and since I'll be "guarding" you anyway, it wouldn't hurt to impart to you some of my glorious wisdom now would it?" She preened.

"Really? Can Fleur sit in too? She'll be in as much danger as I will considering how much time we spend together." The witch in question shot him an appreciative look at his including her.

"Course she can! We're all friends now anyway aren't we?" She laughed, swinging an arm over each of them.

"One thing Tonks," Harry started timidly, "Would you mind turning back to yourself, it's getting a bit weird talking to myself, and you look much better in Fleur's clothes than I do…"

Tonks smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head in a gesture Harry recognized as a tick of his own. He said as much.

"That's just creepy… stop it."

Tonks just snickered, "There's a lot more to imitating someone than just looking like them; studying mannerisms and replicating them is _also_ in my skillset, the infiltration and stealth portion of my auror exams were a breeze, disregarding my tendency to trip when in an unfamiliar body of course."

Tonks returned to her usual electric blue-haired form, with added volume in certain areas to fit in Fleur's clothes.

Harry, looking out the window realized it was nearly sundown and his time to make his way back to the Dursleys. He quickly bid his girlfriend goodbye with a quick peck on the lips, and said farewell to Tonks with a one armed hug before dashing out the door, promising to meet them at the flat the next day at noon.

After talking the day away, the two remaining witches simply enjoyed the silence for a moment before Fleur turned to her new friend, a serious look adorning her features.

"I know we just met today, but I need a favor." Seeing she had the bright haired witch's attention she continued. "I was hesitant to do anything while we were unaware of who may be watching him at that wretched house, but with you here it changes things. I _refuse_ to let 'Arry suffer at the 'ands of 'zose 'orrible excuses for 'yuman beings anymore! 'E tries to 'ide it from me but it's clear 'e 'ates it 'zere!" She gave Tonks a piercing look, "You 'ave seen it as well _non?_ Per'aps even moreso 'zan I _?_ Will you 'elp me?"

Tonks' grin was downright predatory. "Here's what we'll do…"


	10. Chapter 10

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

"Here we are! Otto's Optometry, located on the outskirts of the _beautiful_ town of Sevenoaks, Kent." Tonks cried with an over exaggerated flourish.

Harry strolled past the short wall where the perky witch was perched and took in the view of the attractive stone structure. The sprawling hills and lush greenery framed the scene particularly well. But Harry was too busy being irritated at yet _another_ alliterated shop name to truly appreciate the view.

Was it _really_ so difficult to come up with an original name _without_ the owners name in it?

Tonks was once again back in the tiny frame she seemed to favor, this time wearing hair a shocking violet arranged in a pixie-cut, with matching violet irises that gave her a distinctly unnatural appearance.

The look suited her.

When he had arrived at Fleur's apartment that afternoon he was surprised to find just Tonks waiting for him inside, explaining that his girlfriend had some "business" to take care of. To say it was a bit suspicious was an understatement seeing as it was a weekend which she normally had off from work, but Harry was nothing if not respectful of her space and decided to let it go for the time being.

Besides, getting to know his new instructor a bit better couldn't hurt. In the few days that had passed since they'd met, Harry'd had a feeling that he and Tonks would get on well, a prediction that was quickly coming to pass.

"C'mon, Harry! At least show _some_ excitement, aren't you happy to get those clunky monstrosities off your face?" She teased, hopping off the wall before poking at the younger wizards battered spectacles.

"Damn straight, Tonks," Harry answered, cracking a smile, "I can't tell you how many times I've had my glasses knocked off in the middle of a fight or running for my life. Not to mention having to repair them about a million times per term. I'm still wondering why no one told me about this procedure before. Hell, I'm still kicking myself for not noticing that literally _no one_ has glasses at Hogwarts besides some of the teachers. I guess I just knew my father wore glasses and never questioned it."

"Well there's definitely a culture shock for muggleborns that can be seriously distracting at first, and I'm guessing most people assumed the "boy who lived" would know that kind of thing." Tonks mused out loud. Her mouth settled into a smirk. "As for your dad, I talked to Si…ah… Padfoot, when I popped into HQ last night—"

"What! You mean Padfoot's with the Order? Why didn't he tell me?" Harry cried, indignant that his godfather would keep something like that from him. Though, looking back, Sirius _had_ dropped hints in some of his weekly letters since the end of last term.

"Well you've probably realized by now that I haven't actually told you where HQ _is_?" He nodded thoughtfully spurring Tonks to continue. "Well that's for a good reason. Ya' see, the house is under fidelius, know what that does?"

"Yeah, Fleur explained it to me a while ago, hides all knowledge of a location inside the soul of a trusted friend right? Though it's not without its flaws." Harry's expression darkened, remembering Pettigrew's betrayal.

Tonks nodded in agreement. "Well yeah, the D-man is our secret keeper, so your godfather can't exactly give you the location. And as for telling you he was in the order, maybe he assumed you knew, I mean he _was_ fighting for the light last time around with your parents."

Harry smiled at Tonks' nickname for Dumbledore, admitting she had a point and decided not to hold Sirius's penchant for dramatics against his godfather, it really _was_ an honest mistake. "As for why you haven't been brought to HQ yet, your guess is as good as mine. Probably the same nonsense of keeping you out danger or something, merlin knows that harpy Molly screeches about it enough at meetings.

The reminder that Ron and Hermione were together with the Order and had only sent a letter each. Not that they contained anything besides warnings to keep his head down and out of trouble. The fact that the phrasing was obviously copied verbatim from the Headmaster actually stung a bit. But considering Hermione's blind loyalty to authority figures, it wasn't exactly surprising. He decided to change the subject rather than sulk.

"Hey, Tonks, what were you saying about my dad before I interrupted you earlier?" Harry queried, remembering how the conversation had started.

The grin returned. "Ah yes! Padfoot said your Dad's vision was fine, he thought the specs, and I quote: 'made him look roguishly handsome and helped him bag witches.'" She couldn't quite keep a straight face and snickered out the last part. Harry just shook his head at the Marauder's antics, a grin gracing his features. "And on that note we're here!"

They had arrived in a quaint lobby that looked more like a muggle doctor's office than the usual vibrantly colored palette of the Wizarding world Harry was used to. Informative anatomical posters adorned the beige colored walls and several small indoor plants were arranged around the chairs that filled the waiting area. Several children sat along the wall with adult witches and wizards that Harry assumed were their parents, he was easily the oldest here for a treatment. Understandable considering what he'd been told the previous day.

The pair approached the receptionist, a middle-aged witch with a welcoming smile. "Appointment for Tonks at 2:00 pm," Tonks addressed the woman. She briefly checked a parchment with a list of names and times, indecipherable from Harry and Tonks' point of view.

"Ah yes right here, appointment made under the name Nymphadora Tonks…" Harry snorted, and was immediately jabbed in the ribs, collapsing with a hiss. Tonks simply stared at the receptionist as if nothing had happened, a too-cheerful smile on her face as Harry wheezed on the ground next to her.

"Go on…"

"Right… an appointment under… Tonks, for Harry P-" She did a double take at the list. "Harry Potter?"

"P…present," Harry ground out, slowly rising from the floor with a glare at the pixie-like witch at his side.

"Right this way Mister Potter," said the receptionist with only a brief glance at his forehead. "You're right on time, Healer Parks will see you right away." They followed the witch into the door to the left, which led into a room with bare stone walls and a simple chair in the center.

Noting Harry's dubious looks at the ominous room, the witch settled his fears. "As you may be aware, this _is_ a ritual room. This procedure is one of the few blood rituals that are still unrestricted by the ministry, apparently even ministry officials enjoy having perfect vision." She added with a sarcastic roll of the eyes. Harry still seemed dubious, his experiences with rituals weren't exactly ranking with his best memories.

Tonks gave him a squeeze on the shoulder, "Don't worry, Harry, I've seen it done before, it's entirely harmless, though it may be a tad uncomfortable."

The receptionist who apparently doubled as the healer's assistant nodded at Tonks' assessment as she flitted around the room preparing. "Yes the procedure _is_ harmless, but you may have a bit more pain than the average patient as most have it done while they are young and still developing both physically and magically. Since your magic is more mature and less pliable the process may cause a bit of pain."

Harry nodded, the explanation made sense and he was no stranger to pain. "Let's just get it over with."

"That's the spirit, Mister Potter!" The wizard, who Harry assumed was Healer Parks, said as he entered the room. "Let's get this show on the road."

The man was obviously at least a half-blood, the familiar muggle saying giving him away almost immediately.

"I'll see you after you're done, Harry," Tonks said from the door, "They don't like other magical signatures interfering with the ritual magic."

Harry smiled as she exited, he'd have to be sure to do something nice to thank her once all this was over.

"Girlfriend? Mister Potter," the healer asked, noticing his smile.

"Nope, just a good friend, though we _did_ meet fairly recently." He answered

"My apologies, didn't mean to pry. Have a seat please." Harry did. "Well, in case you're unfamiliar with ritualistic magic, I'll briefly go over the basics so you know what I'm doing." Parks added taking on a lecturing tone.

"Rituals generally function on the basis of equivalent exchange. In other words, something must be sacrificed in order to get our desired result. In this case we're sacrificing a bit of your blood in exchange for the reconstruction of your eyes. By using your own magic for the procedure we limit the amount needed for the sacrifice." He paused noticing Harry's narrowed eyes. "A small amount of blood may seem like a small sacrifice for the correction of your eyesight, but blood is an incredibly conductive medium when it comes to sacrificial magic." The healer clarified, misinterpreting Harry's gaze.

"Trust me, Healer Parks, I'm well aware of the potential of blood sacrifice in rituals." Harry said with a dark look. Reading through his recently acquired tome on ritual magic had only furthered his theoretic knowledge on the subject.

"Very well, then I'll be taking a sample at your discretion, Mister Potter." He answered while picking up a simple short dagger, polished to a sheen. Harry flinched a bit at the sight of the familiar looking dagger, but was placated a bit when it was handed over to him along with a vial to take the sample himself. Gingerly pressing the blade of the knife against his palm, he carefully siphoned off a vial-full of blood and handed it back to the healer, along with the knife. The cut had healed by this point, as was the case with such daggers specially made for blood rituals, and Harry watched as the doctor place the vial on a nearby table.

Healer Parks lowered a stone plate shaped like a donut attached to the headrest of the now-reclined chair so it was situated around Harry's face. "The tablet is used to paint the required runes in your blood and it helps to have the designated affected area within the circle, in the case, your eyes." He explained.

Harry could only stare at the plain grey ceiling as he listened to the gentle scratching of the brush on the stone around his head. The entire diagram took less than ten minutes but seemed much longer to the prone wizard.

"Alright Harry I'm finished, when I give you the word you'll have to channel magic into your hands and press them to the sides of the tablet briefly to begin the ritual. Your friend was correct when she said that a second magical signature could have unknown effects on the ritual so I'll be right outside. Go ahead Harry, whenever you're ready." And he was gone with a click of the door, leaving Harry in silence.

Well… No time like the present… He rested his hands on either side of the stone tablet and felt as the tendrils of his magic seeped into the grey stone.

After a brief delay, his vision went white, and all he knew was pain.

ooOoOoOoo

Some forty miles to the west, in Number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Dudley Dursley was having a bad day. There was _nothing_ good was on TV and his newest game system was once again out of commission.

Dudley lamented the steep decline in quality when it came to his consoles, completely neglecting the fact that throwing a controller into a brick wall tended to result in a broken controller.

Normally he would amuse himself by tormenting the freak, but lately he had been strangely absent from around the house, despite his meals being cooked and the house being spotless.

He'd never say it but the freak cooked much better that his mom. As it should be, he smirked greedily, it _was_ the freak's job after all. Still bored out of his wits, Dudley slowly thought about what to do with his day. He wondered if Piers wanted to make the rounds with the gang today. Maybe he'd take some time out of his busy schedule to remind the O'sullivan brats down the block whose the big man around here.

He nodded to himself, chin fat wobbling slightly, satisfied with his plan to terrorize the neighborhood brats if Piers was free for the day, It wouldn't do to have them be able to run away now would it?

Dudley rolled off of his couch shutting off his TV and negligently tossed the remote over his shoulder. He lumbered over to his door, ignoring the crack of the plastic as it connected with his room's hardwood floors. As he made his way to the kitchen to grab a snack to eat, he _was_ a growing boy after all, he heard someone rapping at the door. Resolving to let his mother deal with the meddler he plopped down at the table to chow down on his extra-large bag of crisps,

Thank god he was free of that bloody diet this summer, He didn't think he could look at another piece of celery again. His hand moved from bag to mouth almost subconsciously, stuffing every last morsel of fatty goodness he could manage. True to his prediction his mother had answered the door and Dudley could vaguely hear her conversing with the stranger, who sounded like a young woman.

"'Ello, you must be Petunia! My boyfriend 'as told me _so_ much about you." Dudley heard the woman's voice through the wall. Her lilting tone sent shivers down his spine and he could tell by her voice alone that this woman was confident in her appeal.

Well well well, it seems someone'd finally wised up and realized what Big D had to offer. The large boy grinned hautily, various scenarios running through his head at what he and this girl claiming to be his girlfriend could get up to. He missed exactly what his mother had said in response but she seemed thrilled as she invited the girl in for tea.

The pair came around the corner and all of Dudley's fantasies were blown out of the water. She was hands down the hottest woman he had ever seen, and that was _including_ on Television and some of his more 'questionable' magazines. Long luxurious blonde almost-silver hair that looked straight out of a commercial fell to her hips with bangs framing cerulean blue eyes, a cute button nose and full, pouty pink lips. Not to mention the girl had the figure of a model. Perky c-cup breasts and a thin athletic waist flared out into perfectly proportionate hips.

This chick's the full-package and she's saying she's his girlfriend? Well, who could blame her, he _was_ Big D after fantasies kicked into overdrive while his eyes unrepentantly raked over her figure. So lost was Dudley in his ogling that he did not notice the disdainful sneer that graced the woman's beautiful features as she took him in. His mother's words brought him out of his self-indulging thoughts

"Duddikens! Why didn't you _tell_ me you were seeing such a lovely young lady?" His mother simpered at him. "What did you say your name was again, miss?" she asked, turning to the babe now seated in the chair across from him.

He gave her what he thought was a charming smile.

She gave a strained smile as though she smelled something foul, "Fleur, _madame,_ Fleur Delacour, but… you must 'ave misunderstood, _mon copain_ is _not_ 'zis… _boy_." She said, eyeing Dudley with distaste, "I was talking about _'Arry_ , 'Arry Potter." She clarified with obvious affection in her eyes. Petunia looked like she had swallowed something sour as her attitude took a 180.

"You'll be one of _them,_ then? How dare you come in this house acting like a _normal_ person." She spit out, showing her true personality. Dudley was so enamored with her accent that he almost missed the words coming out of her mouth.

 _''Arry?_ As in the freak, Harry Potter?! This was the freak's girlfriend?! No way!The idea that the scrawny git he'd grown up with could ever land a babe like _this_ was absurd! With his usual tact he made his thoughts known. "There's no way the freak could get a hottie like _that,_ I don't believe it," Dudley blurted, crossing his still slightly chubby arms in denial.

The mood darkened and the temperature in the room seemed to heat up a few degrees, contradicting the chilly atmosphere. The shouting from Dudley seemed to have gained the attention of the last member of the Dursley family and Vernon came lumbering into the room, footsteps even more thunderous than his son.

"What's all the racket in here?! Is it too much to ask for some peace and quiet on my _one_ day off?! And who's this trollop?!" Vernon spouted with his usual eloquence.

"Dad! It's one of the freak's friends! She tricked us into letting her inside!" Piped up Dudley, not mentioning his lustful thoughts from earlier, not like a freak like her would be any good in the sack anyway…

"I thought I _told_ the boy no more of his freakishness in my house!" Vernon spouted, before making a lunge towards the French beauty sat at their table, as if intending to physically toss her out of the house, but with a deft that movement none of the Dursleys caught the massive lump of a man was frozen, his momentum sending him crashing into the chair the girl had immediately vacated.

" _Enough,_ " came the voice of their visitor, calm tone contradictory to the icy fury crackling through her eyes. "Enough," she repeated unnecessarily, visibly calming herself down enough to speak, no one dared to move. "It seems 'zat 'Arry 'as downplayed what kind of people you all are. To 'zink 'zat 'e as spent close to fifteen years in 'zis place breaks my 'eart, and I 'ave come to tell you 'zat today is 'ze last you will ever see of 'im."

"Now look here! If you thi-" Vernon chose this moment to interrupt, only to be silenced with a negligent flick of her magic stick, and flung into the kitchen sink with another, his face gaining an angry red hue as he attempted to spew his vitriol in vain.

"As you can see, I _am_ an of-age witch and I _can_ use magic. I 'ave come 'ere today out of respect for 'Arry's wishes, to tell you 'zat when he no longer calls 'zis place 'ome, 'zough I wonder why 'e ever did, you will no longer be protected 'ere." She gave them a chance to take in that information before going on. "'Ze one 'zat calls 'imself Lord Voldemort 'as returned, and 'e will 'unt you down if 'e 'zinks 'Arry was ever 'ere. Stay or go, I do not care either way. Do you 'ave any'zing you would like me to tell 'im when I see 'Arry again?" She asked flicking her stick again, giving his Dad his voice back. For once, Dudley wished his dad had kept quiet.

"You can tell that freak that we should have kept him locked under the stairs where he belonged!"

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed. "What?" Fleur asked, her face blanked of any emotion. Not gaining an answer she strode over to the staircase noting the multiple locks on the door before a murmured word unlatched them all and she peered inside.

What happened next was a blur for Dudley, the sheer oppressive force of what he would later realize was actual _magic_ pressed down on him from all sides as small flames licked up the walls causing the gaudy wallpaper to peel and blacken.

What could only be described as a harbinger of death, _stalked_ back into the room, figure still that of a incredibly fit woman while her once pretty facial features were twisted into the cross between woman, and bird of prey. A proud, crown of striking blue feathers, and fierce, angular, avian features all led to a cruel, wicked, curved beak. Yet all that paled in comparison to the _writhing_ twin masses of iridescent white flame caressing what he now realized were _talons_ where her dainty hands once were. Dudley could only thank all the gods in heaven that this being's ire was not currently directed at himself.

His dad was not so lucky.

It was said that day that all throughout Privet Drive, Vernon Dursley's screams could be heard echoing off the suburban homes. A striking contrast to what at first glance was a perfectly normal neighborhood. And when later questioned about the incident, none of the residents seemed to remember the cause of the numerous burn scars attained by the man, nor did they ever comment on the changes that took place in the once arrogant man.

No, he did not have a change of heart, spreading peace and joy to all, but what was once merely arrogance and a distain for all things abnormal was mutated by paranoia, leaving behind a man who would jump at shadows and lash out often at those around him.

ooOoOoOoo

Back at the Optometry ritual room, agonizing screams were echoing off of stone walls for a completely different reason, unfortunately for those involved, they weren't quite sure what that reason was.

Harry had known pain. He was _intimately_ familiar with it, having experienced a multitude of injuries since the early years of his childhood, only becoming more common from his first year at Hogwarts on. He'd had all the bones in his arm shattered by a rogue bludger at sixteen, and subsequently had them vanished and regrown the same night. Never would he forget the scorching burn of basilisk venom searing through his veins, nor would he forget the frigid ache of having his own soul being torn from his body. Voldemort's own cruciatus was just the cherry on top of Harry Potter's long list of harrowing accolades. Yet none could compare to the sheer agony he felt when he activated the ritual.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he noticed the unpleasant burn in his cornea, most likely the ritual completing its intended purpose, yet it was entirely dwarfed by the sensation of his forehead seeming splitting open.

It was as if someone had taken a white-hot poker and attempted to excavate his skull, and the physical pain was only the tip of the iceberg. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he felt a twisted presence unceremoniously yank at his magic, as if trying to wrestle control over his very being, uncaring of the damage it left in its wake. Harry's magic struggled for dominance over the foreign energy, fighting for control, desperately preventing his spirit from beign torn asunder.

It was while his magic was intimately entangled with the writhing mass of hate and despair that Harry recognized the familiar aura, having been in its presence on several occasions. Each time slightly altered, more or less corrupted in different ways, yet recognizable all the same.

'How ironic, it seems I can't escape you even in my own mind, Riddle'With his realization came newfound resolve, along with another wave of excruciating agony as Harry doubled his efforts to eject the foreign entity from his own mind, smothering it with his own formidable magic.

When he felt the force of the insidious magic give way, indicating the battle of wills had tipped in his favor, it was as if he was watching from above, a true out-of-body experience. A brief moment, frozen in time. He noted his own face, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, veins pulsing and sclera stained red with popped blood vessels from the strain of the internal struggle. His visage was framed by the still-glowing runes of the ritual-gone-wrong, casting flickering, eerie shadows along the walls.

The moment was broken as a high pitched wail, reminiscent of the shade of Lord Voldemort fleeing his follower's body in Harry's first year, drowned out Harry's own screams, and a writhing mass of malevolent energy spewed forth from his scar. The dark cloud held no form, clearly not as sentient as the shade he had encountered all those years ago, yet no less corrupted, no less grotesque. The wail gradually faded and the foreign cloud dissipated as the agony of the ordeal settled into a dull pulsing ache.

The last thing Harry saw was the door to the room crashing open admitting Fleur, blonde hair flaring behind her in her rush, and Tonks, hair an uncharacteristically stark white, tears streaming down her face.

He sighed inwardly, wishing Fleur didn't have to see him like this. She'd most likely make herself sick with worry, and it wasn't even his _fault_ this time…

He took in his girlfriend's appearance, no less beautiful with features marred with worry. He glanced to the other witch who was quickly becoming a fixture in his life. She's probably blaming herself, he mused with contained scoff. As if she could have predicted this would happen, how absurd.

He managed a grin, "Hey girls, sooo, how was _your_ day?" He caught a brief glimpse of two pissed off looking witches before surrendering to his exhaustion.

Apparently, they didn't appreciate his humor.


	11. Chapter 11

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

It was to sound of murmuring voices that Harry began to regain consciousness. He had missed the beginning to the conversation but from what he could make out they were discussing what went wrong with what was supposed to be such a straightforward ritual. He recognized his girlfriend's agitation as she demanded an explanation from who he assumed was Healer Parks. Harry inwardly smirked at the man's misfortune, knowing how intimidating Fleur could be when aggravated.

"—not sure what happened Miss Delacour! I double checked all the runework after we made sure Mister Potter had stabilized. There _were_ no errors! I've done the procedure hundreds of times and this has _never_ happened before." The panic in the healer's voice was obvious, though Harry couldn't really blame him considering he was facing the wrath of the distraught veela.

"Well, obviously _somezing_ went wrong wiz' 'ze ritual! Ozzerwise 'Arry wouldn't be lying 'ere unconscious!" Fleur shrieked, clearly worried and using the unfortunate healer as an outlet.

"The only thing that would come even close to that reaction is having another magical signature interfere with the ritual!" said the Healer, still trying to calm her down, "But we clear the ritual chambers before activating the runic scheme _specifically_ for that reason."

Ah, looks like that was Harry's cue.

"Hey Doc, what if there was a foreign signature _within_ the ritual circle?" Harry queried. Before the healer, who he now saw was Parks, could respond, Harry was engulfed by a warm missile flattening him back onto his cot.

"Merlin, 'Arry I was so worried!" The witch mumbled where she was buried in the crook of his neck. Harry gave a soft smile at his distraught partner, touched that he inspired this kind of loyalty in her.

"Nothing to worry about, hun. Takes more than this to put me down." He said with a grin, trying to placate her. It did the opposite, and she was about to make her displeasure known, but as she pulled back to berate him for his blasé attitude she let out a gasp as she stared into his eyes.

"What?! What is it? Is there something on my face?" Harry said panicking, looking around for a mirror.

"See for yourself," answered Fleur, still staring at his eyes as she conjured a mirror with a flick of her wand, holding it in front of him. Luckily the sight he faced in the mirror was nothing close to the disfigurations that he was expecting, but the change was indeed quite startling. His formally darker, jade-green eyes were now a shade brighter, closer to emerald. But the more striking change was the slight dusting of bright silver that ran along the circumference of his irises. The contrast with his jet black locks was even more significant now and was quite noticeable giving Harry a slightly mystical appearance.

However, If the only side effect of a botched ritual and an unforseen magical exorcism was a slight cosmetic alteration to his eyes then he wasn't complaining. However, with that thought he noticed something much more exciting.

"Hey! I can see without my glasses! It worked!" Harry cried with a wide grin splitting his face.

He kissed Fleur straight on the lips, interrupting her appreciative inspection of his eyes. Judging from her enthusiasm, she was clearly _not_ opposed to the change.

A gale of laughter interrupted the pair, drawing Harry's eyes to Tonks where she sat across the small room.

"That's what _I_ was saying, you worry too much Aphrodite! He's been through worse that this before!" her smile didn't reach her eyes, which still showed a hint of guilt and concern as she observed the couple.

Harry refrained from correcting that statement. The pain he had just experienced was actually some of the worst he had ever felt in his life, but what good would voicing that fact do? No need to make the witch feel worse over something she had little control over.

Fleur turned a blazing stare back to Harry. "' _Zat's_ what I'm worried about! I leave you alone with _'zis_ maniac for two hours, _two hours!_ And I come back to find you on your deaz' bed! What do you 'ave to say for yourself?"

Uh oh, now she was pissed at _him_ , do something!

"Hey it wasn't _actually_ my fault this time! How was I supposed to know I had a piece of Voldemort crammed in my skull?" Silence met his outburst.

Great, nice distraction, Harry that was _much_ better.

Luckily Healer Parks came to his rescue. "Is _that_ what you meant by a foreign presence _within_ the ritual Harry? Am I to believe your claim several weeks ago is not as contrived as the prophet's reputation would have me think?" He asked, fear and curiosity warring with worry over his patient.

"I've told nothing but the truth, Sir, whether you choose to believe me or not is your decision," Harry said. Despite his irritation at constantly being called a liar, he was able to remain surprisingly level-headed.

"I am also very familiar with his presence." He chuckled humorlessly. "The feeling of his magic is very distinct you see... It's not something I would forget anytime soon, unfortunately."

Harry paused, considering his words for a moment. "It seemed like it was lying dormant and the act of drawing on my magic for the ritual drew on it as well, unsettling it. And I say _it_ because there's no way that was all of his power, it was significantly diminished, otherwise, I'm afraid I wouldn't have stood a chance. I've witnessed him in similar forms before, actually," he said, thinking back to his first and second years. "Perhaps it has something to do with how he keeps coming back to life?" He mused, a thoughtful look coming over his features.

Healer Parks was clearly still coming to terms with the revelation of a dark lord thought dead for nearly fifteen years, but regained his wits once he was able to focus on the issue at hand. He hummed thoughtfully. "That reasoning makes sense, though I've never personally seen a foreign presence so ingrained with another's magic, so I can't be sure." Came Healer Park's answer. "It could also explain the change that occurred with your eyes, Harry, I assume from your earlier outburst that you are having no problems with your vision?" He gave him an amused quirk of the eyebrow. Harry gave sheepish smile and nod. "Then it seems the original ritual did its purpose, any other side effects, if there _are_ any, will only be made apparent with time."

"Are we sure 'zis piece of 'ze Dark Lord is actually gone?" Fleur asked with a worried glance at Harry.

Healer Parks answered, easing her worries. "I have run several diagnostics after the fact and they have all turned up negative for foreign magic. Normally we aren't so thorough before such a simple ritual since something like this has never happened before, but I find myself planning to do so from now on," he said with a look of consideration on his face. The three younger occupants of the room were relieved to see his dedication to his patients, it was nice to see someone who actually took his practice seriously.

After a moment, the healer continued, "As for you, Harry, besides your obvious exhaustion, there's nothing _actually_ physically wrong with you, you may leave whenever you want. Just rest as much as possible and come back if you find any further complications." He said with a smile.

The three thanked him for his help as Harry hopped down off the small cot. Despite being both physically and mentally exhausted from the ordeal, he felt as though an opaque lens had been lifted from his perception of the World. The change went beyond the obvious improvement to his sight. It was if a weight he had been carrying his entire life had been lifted, enhancing his perception of the world from _all_ his senses, or perhaps more accurately bringing them _back._

Curious… it seemed whatever influence that shard of Voldemort had on him had been greater than he'd realized. Noticing his furrowed brows, Tonks, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, nudged him without words, leaving her obvious question unspoken.

"Tonks, I want to thank you." He said in lieu of an answer.

"Me? What for? In fact I thought you'd be cursing me to next Sunday to tell you the truth, this whole fucked up situation _was_ my idea after all," she said in a rare show of self-deprecation.

"Yeah, it _was_ your idea." He concurred, "And _because_ of your idea I have now removed a shard of Voldemort that was _literally_ jammed in my forehead that I didn't even _know_ about; and my vision was fixed anyway." He said flinging a companionable arm around the older witch's shoulder. " _Plus_ , I got these wicked-ass eyes out of the deal" he added, wiggling his eyebrows to emphasize the point.

Tonks, realizing the truth in his words, cracked a grin at the last bit, and recognizing his obvious attempt to lessen her guilt she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He blushed lightly, but was glad to see some of the vibrancy returning to her spiky hair. As he returned to his girlfriend's side, taking her hand she leaned closer to his ear.

"I didn't want to say 'zis in front of Meester Parks but, 'ze eyes 'Arry… 'zey are so very _sexy,"_ she purred. Her breath tickled his neck, leaving him weak in the knees. He briefly wondered if Voldemort's actions were about to get _him_ some action, but wrote it off as inconsequential.

"Try to contain yourself while we're still in public, you two," The bubbly metamorph laughed, before miming kisses with dramatically exaggerated lips. The couple merely rolled their eyes at the witch as they strolled through the lobby to the disappperation point. Harry, upon seeing the dark sky, realized how much time had really passed while he was unconscious.

"Shit! I'm really late, Vernon's not gonna' be happy when I get back," Harry muttered pinching the bridge of his nose, unaware of the snarl appearing on his girlfriend's face before it left just as quickly. He was brought out of his despair by said girlfriend.

"Um, 'Arry, about 'zat… I don't 'zink you will 'ave to worry about 'zem anymore…."

oooOoOoOooo

Harry was divided. Apparently Tonks had wanted to get him away from the Dursleys ever since she was assigned guard duty for the first time, and Fleur since he'd first given any hint of how he was treated at home. Getting the two in the same room just seemed to just expedite the process a bit.

Despite being a bit upset that they'd gone behind his back with their plan without even asking his opinion on the matter, he was ecstatic to finally be free of his oppressive 'home' for good. Disregarding both of those facts, he was touched that the two would care enough about how he was treated in his own home that they would go over his head to fix the situation. It was companionship that Harry was unsure he was deserving of.

According to his girlfriend, the Dursleys were "punished accordingly" for their actions, to which Harry felt a flash of pity for his wayward family, pity that vanished immediately once she'd elaborated on how she was treated on her visit with them. Harry'd long since gotten sued to the slurs and violence against himself, but the minute they started threatening Fleur was where he drew the line.

Harry found himself wishing he could have been there for one last _goodbye_.

By this point Harry and co. had returned to Fleur's apartment and the trio, upon crossing the threshold, unceremoniously flopped down together on the long couch after the stressful day. Harry broke the silence.

"I don't like to assume, Fleur so I'm going to ask anyway. You mind if I stay here for the rest of the summer?" He asked, as he swung an arm around his girlfriend's slender shoulders.

She snuggled into him further. "Of course you can, 'Arry, as long as you need." She smiled, nuzzling his neck.

Tonks spoke up from her reclined position to Harry's left. "It's not that I _personally_ have any problem with that, you guys, but there is a slight issue with that plan."

"Oh?" Fleur said lightly. "Do tell…"

Tonks sighed heavily. "I bribed Mundungus Fletcher to be somewhere else on the night watches, not that he didn't skive off half the time anyway, but since it's been about two weeks since the start of summer, the guard shifts will change soon. After that my time assigned to guard you during the day will be given to someone else, and even if I _can_ convince someone to give me their shift, whoever has the night shift won't be as easy to bribe as that slob, Dung.

Either way, by next week Dumbledore will be aware of you leaving Privet Drive, if he already isn't, I can't imagine him not having some way to check on the strength of the wards.

Harry paused for a momen, considering everything the Auror had said. "Do you know what his plans for me were? Did he plan to ever take me to headquarters or was he going to have me stuck in Surrey all summer?"

"Hmm I believe he was going to wait to move you until around your birthday on the 31st if I remember correctly." Tonks answered remembering it being mentioned in a meeting at some point, still slouched next to him. "Sirius wanted you to come immediately but for some reason Alby didn't want you around order business, and we can't _actually_ tell you where the building is without Dumbledore personally giving you the location, or writing it on a piece of parchment."

Fleur added a point of her own from her place by his side. "Per'aps 'ze 'eadmaster's reluctance stems from something connected to what 'appened earlier today, a magical connection to Voldemort _would_ be a cause for concern, _non?_ "

Harry sat wide-eyed, the silver ringing his eyes showing completely as he considered this possibility. "You might be on to something, Fleur," Harry said, considering the ramifications of that fact. "I've always been connected to the man in _some_ way, and Dumbledore has always been aware of that fact. _Hell_ he was _there_ on the night that I even got the scar in the first place, he _had_ to have known what that meant, there's no way he couldn't have, and he _is_ one of the most accomplished wizards of the last two centuries after all."

Harry stood, beginning to pace anxiously as he worked his way through their current conundrum. "I've _got_ to find out what exactly these pieces of the madman actually _are_ since they obviously have something to do with how he keeps coming back to life, this is the third time I've seen Riddle as some type of shade, it can't be coincidence. Maybe there will be something about them in the book I picked up in Knockturn."

"It seems 'ze old man does not 'ave your best interests at 'eart, 'Arry." Fleur said, rising to place a calming touch to his shoulder.

"I agree, it's clear he has his own agenda Harry, at this point I'm only staying with the order for the information they gather, granted it's not much, but I'm much more of a help to you guys as an inside woman." Tonks said with a wink to the pair.

"You're sure you're ok doing this, Tonks?" Harry asked gaining an agreeing nod from Fleur.

"Yeah no prob, Hero!" She answered, trademark grin in place, "plus I've had more fun in the last couple of days than I have in a year of Auror work. Not to mention I actually _like_ you guys… _much_ better company than the stuffy old fogies in the order."

The pair smile back at her, Fleur teasing her boyfriend about Tonks' nickname for him gaining a roll of the eyes.

"I might as well write Dumbledore, seeing as he will soon know I'm not at his prison any longer. I think letting him know that I'm safe at a goblin warded home will assuage his fears as long as I stick to his plan of keeping away from the order meetings. Assuming the reason for him being so cautious around me is about that shard of Voldemort that was taken care of earlier, he _should_ be happy about having me away from HQ, though I don't expect he will be too pleased about me bolting earlier than he planned." Harry mused out loud.

"As long as you imply that you left while Dung was on watch you can keep me from being implicated in your deception." Tonks added, gaining a nod from Harry as he returned to his seat between the two witches and pulled out a piece of parchment to pen a letter to Dumbledore. "While we're on that note, I have to ask, when you actually _do_ meet up with the order, I assume you don't want to have Dumbledore knowing everything you've been up to this summer, correct?"

Harry nodded, "Of course, disregarding the fact that I've been in and out of Knockturn alley, I also can't have him seeing what happened during my vision ritual, I'm still suspicious that he knew about that and didn't say anything." Tonks nodded, agreeing with his points.

"I had intended to teach you this first anyway before we started to really get into your training, but it makes even more sense to do it now. What do you know about Occlumency and Legilimency?" Fleur perked up, not recognizing the unfamiliar terms, as Harry answered a negative.

Tonks nodded, expecting as much. "I wouldn't have expected you to, they're skills that're passed down mostly through old families or from master to apprentice. Occlumency, put simply, is the art of having discipline over one's consciousness, and is most often achieved through systematic organization and meditation."

"Having discipline over the mind _does_ sound like it could be helpful, but there has to be more to it right? Or it would be more well-known." Harry pointed out, gaining a nod from the pink haired auror.

"Correct, an adequate mastery of Occulmency provides several benefits. Greater focus, better recall, and higher efficiency when spellcasting are just a few of them. In my case, I learned because as a kid, I was a spastic little bugger. Ya' see, I had to learn Occlumency to gain control over my morphs. When I was still learning, my features tended to change haphazardly depending on my mood. It lets me maintain my morphs with a stable state of mind when I'm under cover," she explained.

"Hmm, that makes sense, though I recall getting you to morph earlier today if I remember correctly," Harry said with a smirk. Tonks merely jabbed him in the ribs gaining a yelp from the young wizard.

"Watch it, bud," She reprimanded, then a lower tone, "I was really worried ya' know?"

His smirk shifted into a much softer smile as he swung a companionable arm over her shoulder and brought her in closer to his right side in thanks. Now sandwiched between two beautiful witches, Harry was in no hurry to move, yet still wanted Tonks to finish her explanation on Occulmency. He told her as much.

The young metamorph responded, continuing where she'd left off, "Right! So all of those are reason's enough to learn the skill, but the main reason the older families pass it down from generation to generation is to protect family secrets. Luckily my mum learned the skill before the Blacks booted her out," Tonks said with a scowl.

Harry blanched. "Wait! So you're related to Sirius? I didn't know that."

"Yeah, probably you as well, distantly anyway. Though that's not saying much, nearly every pureblood family is connected in some way these days." She answered with a negligent wave of her hand. Harry decided to follow the witches lead and not dwell on it.

"So what did you mean by protecting the family's secrets?" Harry said, bringing them back on topic.

"Right… so having a mastery over Occulmency is the only way for a witch or wizard, to protect their mind against a Legilimancer, someone who has mastered the other skill I mentioned earlier, Legilimency. A wizard who has learned this skill can tell when someone is lying by reading their surface thoughts through eye-contact, and a master can invade the mind and extract memories through the spoken spell." Both Fleur and Harry sat wide eyed as they processed this information.

"Perhaps you can see why I'm mentioning this now, Harry? Care to take a guess if you know anyone who would be a master Legilimens?" She said, leading Harry. He did not disappoint.

"Dumbledore for sure, and I'm willing to bet Snape as well. He's always seemed to know when I was lying to him, though he would punish me anyway even if I was telling the truth most of the time…"

"Right in one, Hero." She said, playfully tapping him on the shoulder, "That's why first thing tomorrow, we start you on the first steps to Occluding your mind. With that said, I believe I'll be taking my leave. Don't you two lovebirds do anything I wouldn't do." She said smirking as she rose from the couch and sauntered out the door calling over her shoulder, "See you two tomorrow!"

After hearing the soft crack of Tonk's disapperation, Harry finished his letter to Dumbledore, which merely outlined the fact that he no longer considered Privet Drive his home as to make sure that the wards fell and it was no longer an option for him to stay there. He did not specify that He was staying with Fleur, but stressed that he _was_ safe where he was and hoped that staying away from the Order HQ would be enough to keep the old man happy for the moment. He sent the letter with Hedwig who nipped his fingers playfully before soaring out Fleur's apartment window.

Harry turned to his girlfriend who was still happily snuggled under his left arm. "Hun, do you have an extra bed for me to sleep in? it's been a long day and honestly I'm exhausted."

" _Non,_ " she answered, smiling demurely.

It only took a moment for the implications to set in, bringing a warm flush to his ears as he tried to find the words to answer.

Fleur let him suffer for another moment before clarifying. " _Just_ to sleep, 'Arry, 'zough I would not be opposed to doing _'zat_ wiz' you anozzer time, as you said, it 'as been a long day. I too am, 'ow you say, beat?"

Harry smiled, sighing heavily with a combination of relief and disappointment, getting up and brushing his teeth before changing into a pair of cotton shorts and flopping into Fleur's bed.

She followed minutes later after performing her own nightly rituals. Though tired, Harry still noticed that his radiant girlfriend was dressed in only a long pale blue shirt, a sheer pair of panties peeking out as she walked; long pale legs that went on for miles stood out in the dim lighting of her bedroom. She slipped under the covers to join him with a coy smile and rolled on her side facing away from him. Harry tentatively scooted closer spooning his girlfriend from behind, the touch of her soft, flawless skin sending shivers up his spine. Fleur sighed in contentment feeling wonderfully safe in his embrace. She wormed herself even closer, smiling at the gasp Harry let out as her rear ground firmly against his pelvis.

If it wasn't for the truth of his earlier words, Harry doubted he'd have been able to resist his absolute _minx_ of a girlfriend. But as it was, he already felt his eyelids growing heavy against his will.

The pair quickly fell into slumber after the trying day, content in each other arms, only to wonder at what events awaited them the next day.


	12. Chapter 12

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

 **AN: Hey guys and gals, long time no see, though I did warn you about the longer wait last chapter. I got back from Mexico last week and spent a bit of time getting ahead on my chapters again so I have a bit of leeway. A couple things to note on this chapter, first, there's a short lime in the first scene of this chapter, so skip if that's not yo' thang. Two, is there is a bit of discussion about Legillimency in this chapter, and for clarity reasons I've decided to change the terminology a bit since it never made sense to me. Legilimency is the art, Legilimancer is a witch or wizard who practices the art, and _Legilimens_ is the spell itself. It never made sense to me that the spell and someone who uses legillimency would be called the same thing. If it really bothers people let me know in reviews and I'll change it back.**

 **So since it's been a bit, to recap briefly, Harry and co. made it back from the Optometry trip from hell, discussed Fleur's encounter with _'ze Dursleys_ and what to do about the Order. Tonks ducked out after making plans for Harry's training, and Harry himself is obviously staying with Fleur for the summer now and that's where we left off. :]**

As Harry was roused from his slumber, he knew something was wrong. This was not his lumpy uncomfortable mattress that was barely long enough to hold his nearly nineteen-year-old frame. These were not the threadbare sheets that would leave him chilled to the bone on the colder nights. And the warm, nubile body he could feel pressed against his chest was _certainly_ not the norm for his summer mornings. Perhaps, _wrong_ was not the correct word to use, maybe _unfamiliar_ would be more appropriate, as Harry had probably never woken up in a more pleasant way in his life.

Upon opening his eyes, his vision was obscured completely by tresses of silvery blonde hair. The familiar scent of pine and fresh linen invaded his nostrils as he sighed into what he now realized was his girlfriend's flawless hair, which, even after a night of sleep, was untangled and even. Thanking the powers that be once again for what was now his life, Harry burrowed even further into Fleur's neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent once more, and closed his eyes once again in bliss.

It was not until an hour or so later that the young wizard was roused once again, this time by Fleur shifting her pert bottom in an extremely pleasant way against his groin. The movement drew a groan from him answered by a lilting giggle from the witch. His body reacted in the way one would expect from a healthy young man such as himself, but the fact did not seem to deter his girlfriend as she wiggled around in his embrace.

Fleur turned so they were face to face, meeting his lips in a gentle kiss, a wonderful way to be greeted in the morning if Harry did say so himself. In a brief moment of lucidity, Harry reached under his pillow to palm his wand muttering a charm to get rid of his morning breath, as unlike his wonderful girlfriend, he did _not_ have passive veela magic keeping him fresh at every moment of the day. The action earned him an appreciative hum from Fleur as well as the witch burying a hand in his chaotic mess of bed-head deepening their chaste pecks into a scorching kiss that set his toes curling. As Fleur's other hand traced languid patterns in the sparse hair on his abs, his own began wandering. One slid down the curve of her spine to cup her perfectly toned, panty-clad ass, while the other merely stroked her silvery hair in reverence.

As the couple continued heatedly, Fleur, really getting lost in the moment, resumed grinding her hips sensuously against Harry's own, sending a wonderful sensation to his already dangerously erect member. He could only respond in turn, meeting her undulations by bucking his own hips into the impassioned veela earning a soft huff from the girl.

Harry's heart raced as he left Fleur's lips initially feeling a disappointed pout form, at least until he instinctually trailed his lips down to the pulse point on her neck, gently teasing it with his tongue before nipping at her with his lips, all the while continuing their passionate grinding motions.

He trailed the hand that was once buried in her hair around her waist and under the hem of her shirt to one of her now pebbled nipples, obvious from the lack of bra underneath her sleep shirt. He gently teased patterns around the tip before lightly pinching, earning a squeal of pleasure from the enthusiastic veela. Fleur responded with renewed vigor as she ground her core fervently onto his member, chasing her own release. Harry was just as close, but was sent over the edge as his girlfriend gave a particularly long stroke as she latched her flushed lips over his earlobe, sucking on it and giving a seductive moan right into his ear. Harry's whole body tensed before bucking against the beautiful witch's core in release, triggering the woman's own orgasm, evident from the rhythmic contractions of her own body, and the ecstatic keen that left her lips.

The couple panted in each other's embrace, winded from their impassioned exertions, reveling in the intimacy as they came down from the high of their mutual release. It would seem that nothing could wipe the wide grin from Harry's face, obscured though it was as he buried his head in his girlfriend's hair, inhaling her natural scent, though the content smile adorning said girl's own lips was no less radiant. Finally regaining his breath Harry addressed Fleur for the first time that morning through an exultant laugh.

"Well… good morning to you too," he murmured through his grin.

She let out a breathless giggle of her own. "I said 'zis once before 'Arry, you are a natural, you are sure 'zis is 'ze first time you 'ave done 'zis _oui?"_

"I think I would have remembered if something like _that_ had happened to me before," he laughed, earning a roll of the eyes from the scantily clad veela draped over his bare chest. "Any time you want to wake me up like _that_ feel free to do so."

"It was, quite literally, my _pleasure,_ 'Arry," she said through hooded lids, placing a chaste kiss on Harry's forehead before rising and sauntering over to her bathroom, an extra swing in her hips. She peeled her sleepshirt over her head as she slipped into the bathroom, teasing him with a tantalizing view her nude back and pert, peach-shaped ass.

"She's going to kill me one of these days," Harry moaned to the empty room, apparently not quietly enough as he heard Fleur's laugh from behind the door.

oooOoOoOooo

After the couple were both showered and changed, Harry reclined on the couch pondering how he would be spending the rest of his day. Fleur had left for work minutes earlier and he already missed the witch's presence. For the first time in a long time, he was fully rested, and despite the state of the Wizarding world, perfectly content with his life. He knew Tonks would be visiting later and looked forward to everything the experienced witch would be teaching him, though her spastic personality could possibly lead to some interesting methods, but that was yet to be seen. Regardless, her company was welcome as he truly got along well with the energetic young woman; she provided a bit of humor and spontaneity that was sorely lacking in his life so far.

Harry figured he might as well get a head start on my training for the day. Tonks _did_ say he'd be learning Occlumency before anything else, so it wouldn't hurt to get some spellwork out of the way.

He rifled through his trunk that now stood as a permant fixture next to the dining room table, where he and Fleur did most of their studying, eventually pulling out a text on elemental magic. He'd ordered the book from Flourish and Blotts earlier in the summer but hadn't gotten around to actually cracking it open as he was more focused on drilling his skills in transfiguration. Harry did not regret the time spent on the subject, as in his opinion, transfiguration was the most versatile form of magic to be used in combat, but it definitely wouldn't hurt to have more of a variety of curses to fall back on in a pinch.

The preface of the text outlined how elemental creation and manipulation differed from traditional spells and curses. Harry was intrigued, as according to the book, elemental magic was a branch that required a certain emotional mindset before it could be harnessed to its full potential. The description was oddly reminiscent of fake-Moody's lecture of how one would cast the unforgivables. Though it made sense that emotionally driven magic would not be limited to just the unforgivable curses and the patronus; it would appear that elemental manipulation was just another type of magic that ran in the same vein.

Turning to the first page of the section on fire manipulation Harry read the introductory passage.

 _Fire, like all elemental manipulation is a highly emotionally driven category of magic. Most associate the powerful element with its overwhelming ability to destroy, but ignore the fact that it is also the symbol of life, rebirth, and the inner light that burns in every soul. Passion! Compulsion! Zeal! Creativity! These are all emotions that can successfully create and control the element of fire. The immortal phoenix is only one such example of the flame's representation of both life and death, and it is that inner light that makes fire the most sentient of all the elements, prone to spreading out of control without the proper will and discipline to contain it. Tread carefully before attempting to undertake a mastery over such an element._

Harry leafed through the subsequent pages as he pondered the introduction and warnings made by the book, noting the various spells concerning the manipulation and creation of fire.

Curiously enough, it would seem that the simple _incendio_ they'd been taught at Hogwarts was just a watered down version of some of the more destructive spells in the noted that one of the last spells mentioned in the section, labeled fiendfyre, which was only mentioned by name, without the instructions to create such flames, but having the simple note of: _a malevolent flame of high sentience and abnormal size and heat, infused with dark magic, capable of seeking out living targets._

"Yeah, lets avoid that one for now," Harry mused, eyebrows climbing at the ominous description. He flipped back to one of the spells at the start of the chapter, deeming them a bit more practical to start out with. Finding something that looked useful and simple enough he read the description: _Flame dart, incantation: ardor telum, a condensed flame of moderate size, used as a projectile to pierce the target with combination of high velocity and heat._

Below was an Arithmatic breakdown of the spell along with a brief history of its country of origin, neither of which were required to actually _cast_ it, but interesting all the same.

Seemed simple enough, wand motion is a tight twisting jab, he noted. Made for a fairly quick casting speed, let's give it a try. He mimed the wand motions a couple of times before attempting the spell with magic.

Harry took a deep breath, centering himself as he prepared to draw on the well of his power. Feeling a tendril of what he'd only recently recognized as his own magic, he tugged, noting that he did not have to fight as much to get his magic to flow, it seemed more… _fluid_ in a way. Disregarding his observation for the moment, he began the wand motions once more, slowly at first.

" _Ardor tel_ —"

"Wotcher, Harry!"

"Fucking shit!" Harry cried as a plume of orange flame soared from his wand. "What the actual fuck, Tonks? You scared the shit out of me!" He cried, calming his racing heart as he glared at the metamorph, her hair an eye-catching sun-kissed gold, as she cackled at his reaction.

"Chair's on fire," She mentioned after a moment, pointing lazily to one of the wooden chairs surrounding Fleur's dining table. Harry only now noticed the flickering flame crawling up the side. He yelped, turning his wand on the furniture with a muttered " _aguamenti_."

Harry collapsed onto the couch, sighing with exhasperation at the odd woman who had already brought so much more excitement into his life. Harry attempted a halfhearted _reparo_ on the chair but it seemed that damage from certain elemental spells proved resistant to being repaired.

"Fleur's gonna' kill me," He moaned into his palms, which were now planted firmly into his face after seeing for himself the damage caused by his aborted spell. Tonks flopped down next to him on the couch with his spell book in her hand reading over the spell he was attempting.

"Oh calm down, Wonder-boy! I'm sure Aphrodite has enough cash replace one measly chair. Besides, it adds character to the room! It was way too bland before anyway." Tonks shot him a grin, earning a scoff in response.

"Hey, Harry," Tonks said, gaining his attention with her lack of stupid nickname.

"Yeah?"

"What were you planning on aiming this spell at in the first place? It says here it's supposed to pierce a target with an effective distance of 15 meters, which, if I hadn't interrupted you would have been…" She paused looking around the room, "That wall over there."

Harry's hand once again met his face. "Fuck." He said simply, rubbing his temples, Tonks only snickered at his forgetfulness before moving on to the true reason behind her visit.

"Right so Dumbledore called an emergency order meeting last night after I left this place. It seems he wasn't too happy about you leaving the whale and company, but ended up relenting that 'it may have been for the best' after he got your letter." Tonks explained, using air quotes for Dumbledore's phrasing.

" _Really?_ I didn't think he would be that easy to convince. Is that all the meeting was about? Seems like a lot of trouble for just me." Harry thought out loud. Tonks nodded seriously in response.

"Yeah, that would be a bit much," She agreed, "But no, he was also calling to inform us of a new task he's assigned various members of the order."

"Really? Why's that?" he asked.

"Apparently it was a decision made off a tip from the Bat of the dungeons himself." She scrunched her nose as if at war with herself, "Say what you will about the man, but I can't say I'm not glad that it's him and not me spying on Voldemort's inner circle."

Harry nodded in agreement, smiling inwardly at Tonks' casual use of the name. Details behind Snape's loyalty had always been a bit vague, but hearing it from Tonks only confirmed it, Harry did not envy the man's position in this war. "What's your new assignment?"

"Weeeell," she began playfully stretching out the vowel, " _my_ assignment hasn't changed, I'm to attempt to find out where you are staying, and if I succeed at that, to tail you wherever you go. So… mission accomplished," she said with a wink. "However the _other_ order members have changing shifts guarding a door leading to the Department of Mysteries down in the lower levels of the Ministry, though big D hasn't enlightened us on the reason why." She finished with a scowl.

"He is fairly well known for playing his cards close to his chest," Harry said quietly, pondering this new information. "What's in the Department of Mysteries anyway?" he asked the older witch.

She turned slowly to face him, wiggling her fingers ominously, "…Mysteries." Harry only gave her a dry look in response, prompting her to elaborate. Tonks dropped her charade and answered seriously, "In all honesty no one really knowns what goes on there besides the actual department members. Most speculate it's a research facility for experimental magic. Whatever it is, Voldemort's after it and it can't spell good news if he gets what he wants."

Harry had nothing to say to that, so he decided to focus on what he could influence in the present. "Thanks for the info, Sunshine," Tonk shot him an unamused look, "What! If you can give me shitty nicknames then I get to do the same for you." He said with a smile.

"At least come up with something more creative than sunshine."

"What? And boy-wonder is any better?" he shot back.

"Fine, we'll agree to disagree, let's get to the real meat of this visit, it's time to get you up to snuff." Tonks said, rubbing her palms together. "We'll be starting with Occlumency today so we can work with the space we have, but I have somewhere else in mind when we do get around to actually dueling each other so you don't end up burning down Aphrodite's apartment." She began with a cheeky smile.

Harry rolled his eyes, but continued to sit attentively so the blonde-today witch went on. "Occlumency, as I explained yesterday, is what we'll be starting with for two reasons, the first being your wish to keep your thoughts to yourself, and secondly the improved focus and recall will help you memorize and perform spells more efficiently.

A lot of the skill follows muggle meditation, the only difference being a more tangible manifestation of the inner psyche. Come cop a squat," Tonks ordered, while sitting on the floor herself. "Sit in a position that you think you can hold comfortably for a decent amount of time." He followed her direction. "Now at this point most resources and teachers will tell you to clear your mind, my mum tried the same when she was teaching me and it took me the longest time to make even a little progress." Tonks continued to lecture.

"So is there an easier way then if it didn't work at first for you?" Harry asked

"Yup, at least for me anyway. We seem to be like-minded people so I figured it might work for you as well. Instead of trying to keep your mind blank, keep it focused on a single idea or concept that is familiar to you. I found this _much_ easier than keeping my mind blank, and it still works to remain focused as the state of mind we want to create is one that is unchanging."

 _'Hmm, what concept am I familiar enough with that I can base my own consciousness around it?'_ Harry thought as he pondered his teacher's explanation.

"Once you have your focus, keep your breathing even and stabilize your mind on just that single concept. A master Occlumancer can redirect an invading Legillimancer without the attacker even knowing they are being deceived, but today we're just going to see if you can recognize an invasion in the first place." Tonks continued in a surprisingly calming tone.

Harry remained silent, having decided what to focus on. A cloudless sky of endless blue seemed constant enough that it would be an ideal point of focus, and the thought itself had calming effect on the young wizard, who felt most at home in the sky.

He started his visualization with a school quidditch match, complete with roaring crowd decked out in the four school colors, and thirteen other players swarming around him with flying quaffles and aggressive bludgers. He let the screams of the crowd fade away, then the people themselves. The other players were the next to go, leaving him alone in an empty stadium, isolated with his own thoughts. Harry let the six hoops fade away as well, and then the stands leaving him floating over the green pitch with nothing but the rolling hills in the distance and the open sky to keep him company. He focused his attention upwards, letting the landscape fall away, only the infinite sky remaining until he was lost in the endless blue. He exhaled slowly through his nose as he murmured, "I'm ready."

"Ok, while keeping that state of mind, open your eyes," Tonks instructed, Harry following a moment later. "I won't be trying to pull any memories up at first, I just want you to attempt to recognize the intrusion. If you do it correctly, it will feel like the only foreign part of your mind." Tonks explained, and getting no response from the young man sitting opposite her, she began. "I'll cast at the count of three; three… two… one….. _Legilimens"_

Surprisingly, the feeling was not all that foreign to him. That's not to say he couldn't recognize what she was speaking of; the tendril of a foreign presence in his mind was still entirely distinguishable from the rest of it, yet the feeling itself was not new to him. He _had_ experienced it not too long ago after all; Tonks' subtle intrusion was a striking contrast to the overwhelming presence of the dark lord hammering away at his mind, but the feeling was the same, and having that familiarity with it, Harry was quickly able to detect it. Not knowing what to do next, he took the next logical step, visualizing surrounding it and forcing it out of his head.

Having been focused entirely on the struggle in his mind, Harry just now realized he had physically just been staring into his mentor's eyes the whole time. They both sat noticeably winded despite not having moved from their starting locations, He noticed with a flash of humor that Tonks had matched her eye pattern today to his own emerald, silver-ringed irises, only with an amber and red color palette, to match her strawberry blonde hair. He was brought out of his thoughts when the striking witch spoke once again.

"Damn, Harry! You're sure you've never done this before? That was amazing for your first time." Tonks praised with wide eyes, rarely did anyone ever force the invader out of the first try, the young wizard was in a league of his own.

"Surprisingly, you're not the first witch who's said that to me today," Harry mumbled under his breath with a smile.

"What was that?"

"Nothing! Nothing, uh shall we try again?" He asked quickly, changing the subject.

"Right… well same as before, if you can force me out like you just did then do it, try to get the time it takes you to notice the intrusion shorter and shorter, then we can try while I'm actually digging for a specific memory." Gaining a nod from her student, Tonks went ahead, "Three… two… one… _legilimens…"_

The afternoon continued as such for a couple more hours. Harry made significant progress with the speed at which he could detect an intrusion, and after moving on to doing the same while Tonks was searching for insignificant memories was able to prodigiously repel each intrusion. It was during this stage that a thought came to him. He hadn't considered the significance of it before, but his mind certainly seemed a lot clearer these days. Harry had a feeling that this wouldn't have come as easily to him a few days prior.

It wasn't until Tonks started digging for some of his more emotion-inducing memories that his mental discipline slipped. Harry, who's more harrowing memories were most likely many times worse than the average witch or wizard, had trouble maintaining control over his emotions while reliving the demons of his past.

Tonks had explained before moving on to this step that while Dumbledore would use passive legillimency with eye contact at the most, the Dark Lord was also a master Legillimancer, so practicing against a more aggressive attacker would be ideal. Harry had quickly agreed, and was reminded that Tonks could be downright vicious in her aggression, even in the mind arts, but Harry welcomed the challenge, especially if it would help him guard more effectively against Voldemort. By the end of the day, the pair sat side by side on the floor, leaning against the couch in their exhaustion.

"Soo… what are you gonna' tell Aphrodite happened to her chair?" Tonks asked with a tilt of her head and a sardonic grin. Harry merely sighed in response.

"Shuddup, Tonks…"

 **AN: So that's that, should be a shorter wait for the next chapter, since I've spent the time since I got back from Mexico writing to get ahead of my posting schedule again. Until next time!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

 **AN: Hey guys, bit of a delay, but the chapter ended up being like 10k words with no end in sight, so I had to split it up into two parts which required me to go back and add a part to the beginning to make it make sense. Anyway, this chapter has two page breaks in it, making it three separate parts, the first two are from Fleur's POV and the third is from Harry's again. I only mention it here because I feel like I'm still getting the hang of writing in third person limited POV which is fairly straightforward when only dealing with one narrator, but gets a bit more complicated when dealing with multiple narrators. That being said, I'm still not sure I'm doing it correctly so correct me if I'm wrong. Enjoy the chapter.**

Fleur leaned back in her chair with a sigh, exhausted after a long day of casting diagnostic magic. Despite her relatively short workday, the delicate spellwork required for her job was extremely taxing to the body and by the end of the day she was ready to return home and fall into the arms of her boyfriend. The thought of the young wizard in question brought a soft smile to the face of the normally independent young veela.

Fleur laughed lightly to herself. Harry truly had no idea what a special person he really was, she mused, reliving the past couple of months in the young man's presence.

She flushed lightly, remembering the very first time she'd laid eyes on 'the boy who lived,' and that truly was all he was to her at the time. Her initial reaction to him couldn't have been further off base. She still remembered with a twinge in her gut, the stricken look on his face after he'd been declared the fourth triwizard champion.

Her labeling him a 'leetle boy' was vastly inaccurate but that didn't change the fact that he had certainly grown both physically and magically since then. The tasks alone were grueling to even a witch as accomplished as herself, let alone someone with three fewer years of experience, but he'd taken it all in stride. Even after the term's conclusion, rather than slow his progress, the young wizard had continued to improve in leaps and bounds.

Having finished the last of her appraisals for the day, Fleur gathered her personal items from her artisan's desk situated in a sparse but functional workroom and glided out of the door, ready to see Harry again. She amended the thought, remembering that Tonks would likely be with him by this time. The thought of the quirky older witch made her inwardly sigh, who knew what the two of them left alone together would get up to.

Despite being proud of her heritage and content even with the complications that came with it Fleur did not have many girls her own age who she would consider close friends. That wasn't to say that her peers ostracized her, in fact it was quite the opposite, she was respected by most for her magical prowess and intelligence as well as her beauty. There was of course the occasional petty young witch who gave credence to the stereotypes surrounding those of veela descent. But they were few and far between, outliers to the fast majority of admirers surrounding Fleur. That's all they were though, admirers, kept at arm's length.

However, with Tonks in her life, she finally had someone who she could speak frankly with, and share the things she would feel uncomfortable sharing with her family and lacking the intimacy to share with others. The role that the older woman played in keeping Harry safe certainly helped endear her to Fleur as well, not to mention how close the two were becoming. Fleur smiled, glad that Harry had someone making his life a bit more serendipitous, though she could do without the unprecedented danger that seemed to follow the pair like a dog with a bone. Fleur had a feeling that Tonks would become something more than just a close friend to Harry and herself in the future, but was content to let their relationship develop at a natural pace. Harry wasn't as indoctrinated to the concept as one raised with veela culture after all, and that was just fine with Fleur.

Her introspection was interrupted by a conversation being had by a pair exiting one of the offices lining the hallway that if her memory served, belonged to the department in charge of foreign relations.

"Be sure the next expedition is a more… _profitable_ endeavor, Weasley, you wizards may have little care for your own kind, but I assure you another loss of goblin life will _not_ be taken so lightly." Came the first voice, a grating drawl common to the goblin race.

 _Weasley?_ If she remembered correctly, that was the name of one of Harry's friends from school, but there would be no reason for him to be here, perhaps his father?  
Or maybe an older sibling?Fleur thought, recognizing the surname. Her suspicions were confirmed as the pair exited the doorway.

"I assure you, Sharpclaw, every precaution was taken, and every tomb we explore carries a certain risk with it as you well know. Bonesaw was a talented goblin but even one such as he knew that sometime accidents happen in such a dangerous line of work, and I don't appreciate the insinuation that I would endanger my men purposefully, their lives are my highest priority." The second voice, this time a commanding tenor, was respectful yet firm in its response, qualities she knew were respected by the goblins. The now identified Sharpclaw gave a grunt in response, "Mark my words, Weasley, it is only the fact that you speak true and your record that has saved you from further retaliation from the goblin nation, be sure that it doesn't happen again." Sharpclaw spit out.

"Yes, Master Sharpclaw," The man answered as he turned to exit the room, only now noticing Fleur as she passed by. "Hey wait up!" He called out to her with a smile, argument seemingly forgotten.

It was the first time she got a good look at the man, Fleur could see how some women would find him attractive, the rugged features and long hair a shade or two darker than the younger members of his family gave him a refined look that was further enhanced by the elegant dragon tooth earring hung from his left ear. But she was committed to another man to whom she held feelings beyond mere attraction. Seeing no reason to ignore the man who seemed honorable enough from the snippet of conversation she had overheard, she stopped, turning slightly to wait for him to catch up. He addressed her once more, once he did so.

"Hi, you're Fleur Delacour right? I thought I recognized you around here before, but it didn't make sense to me that you would still be in England after the tournament ended so I thought I was mistaken." He said good-naturedly. She noted a hint of her passive allure taking effect evident in the subtle glaze that overcame his eyes, but he remained civil, so there was no harm done.

" _Oui_ , I am Fleur, and from 'ze conversation I couldn't 'elp but overhear, I know you are Weasley, yet I do not know _which_ Weasley." She answered leadingly.

"The hallway's probably not the best place for a discussion like that eh?" He chuckled, "Nasty business that. One of the tombs we were excavating collapsed when one of our team overlooked a trigger on one of the rune traps. We lost two cursebreakers and one of the goblin guides," he elaborated somberly. Fleur could empathize, cursebreaking was one of the more dangerous jobs one could take on with a specialization in runework, and though the danger did not personally appeal to her, she could respect those that _did_ choose to undertake such a career.

She voiced her sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that, you have my condolences…" he started, recognizing what she was implying.

"Oh! Right, the names Bill, Bill Weasley," he said, extending a hand which Fleur met with her own. "So what _are_ you doing around England still, I would have expected you to have gone back to France already," he questioned.

"I 'ave made certain _connections_ 'ere that 'as made me consider England as a second 'ome, and as for what I'm doing in Gringotts, I work 'ere in 'ze appraisal department." She answered in her usual musical voice.

"Really?" Bill seemed genuinely surprised that she would choose stay in his country, but his next sentence clarified the reason, "Listen Fleur, I'm sure you're aware of the prejudice one such as yourself faces in a place like magical Britain, and it's obviously your decision whether you stay or not, but I feel like it's my duty to let you know that the rumors being hushed up by the media are more than just rumors, the country won't be safe for long." He said quickly, peering around to make sure he wasn't overheard. Fleur's features darkened, though not for the reason that Bill thought. The reminder at the dangers Harry would soon face once again was the true cause of Fleur's soured mood and she said as much.

"I'm well aware of the validity of the resurrection of your Dark Lord, and I feel it is _my_ duty to see the situation to its conclusion for reasons I'll be keeping to myself." She answered curtly.

Surprised at the young woman's determination Bill took a chance, "If that's how you really feel, you should know that there are some of us that are of similar opinion, perhaps you'd like to join me for tea while I give you the details?" He added flirtatiously.

Fleur had a feeling that, considering the family's connections to Dumbledore, this may be the young Weasley testing the waters for another member to add to the order; that _and_ an excuse to ask her out. "My apologies, I don't quite have the time, my _boyfriend_ 'as been waiting on me long enough," She answered with a sardonic smile, recognizing the double invitation for what it was. "As for 'zese 'like-minded individuals' I will 'zink on it _non?_ "

"Drats! I was too late," Bill laughed, snapping his fingers playfully, taking the rejection graciously enough, and in the process earning a bit more respect from the young witch. "Well when you've thought about it enough , I'll be on site for the next couple of days before we head out for the next expedition, so let me know," he said, parting with a smile and a wave leaving the beautiful veela alone once again with her thoughts.

She gathered herself after the surprisingly pleasant conversation, headed down the hallway that lead to the main lobby of Gringotts, eager to see Harry and Tonks once again.

oooOoOoOooo

It turned out that Harry had worried for nothing, as Fleur, in response to his profuse apology concerning her scorched furniture, merely responded with: "If 'zat is 'ze worst of 'ze damage from leaving you two alone in my home for several hours I count myself lucky." Tonks didn't take the accusation laying down though, not that Fleur expected her to.

"Whaddaya mean you _two_ , Harry was the one who almost burned your house down Aphrodite!"

"Yeah but who was the one who broke in and verbally assaulted me as I was casting magic?" came Harry's affronted response.

"Verball…?! Oh you mean the fire spell that you were practicing? What was it called…" Tonks paused, as if in consideration, "Oh _that's_ right it was the _fire bullet_!" She cried dramatically. "You're _welcome,_ Fleur, for saving you from having to fix a hole in your wall." Harry had the decency to look sheepishly at his girlfriend, who merely stared at the back and forth with fond exasperation.

"'Arry…no more fire spells in 'ze house!" Fleur said, laying down the law. "And you! Miss _Auror,"_ She said, turning on the strawberry blonde-haired woman, interrupting her snickering at Harry being scolded, "Are 'zere not certain protocol you are taught in basic training about interrupting someone casting magic?" Tonks looked appropriately chagrined, as she mumbled inaudibly.

"Right, so if you two are _quite_ done I would like to get to 'ze lessons on 'zis _Occlumency_ Miss Tonks, 'zat is, if you are still willing to teach me." Fleur asked.

Tonks simply nodded with a crooked smile, "Alrighty then! Let's get to it." She motioned the silver haired witch to follow her, as she settled once again on the floor, leaving Harry to continue his meditation excercises. "Oh and it's just Tonks, Aphrodite, Miss Tonks is my mother." She added with a quirk of her lips.

Fleur furrowed her eyebrows in thought, "Would it _really_ be so terrible to call you by given name?" Harry couldn't hide his snort, earning a questioning glance from Fleur and a scathing glare from Tonks, who, lucky for him, was already seated at a safe distance across the room. Fleur turned her gaze back to the equally stunning witch seated across from her. Normally something that would be cause for competition, of which she would usually be the winner in every sense, but Tonks was different. A kindred soul. A friend, and not to mention, equally as gorgeous if not in the most traditional way. She was soon broken out of her musings by the subject of her thoughts.

"Well you don't _have_ to call me Tonks as long it's not my first name, I'm sure you'll think of something!" She said. Harry spoke up, once again risking his neck.

"What about Nym?" He rushed to clarify at her narrowed eyes and strawberry blonde hair shifting to red, "I..I have an idea of why you dislike your first name," He started, causing the metamorph to scowl, but he could tell her ire wasn't directed at himself this time. He forged on, "Would Nym really be such a bad nickname? I definitely think of you as a close friend, and I'm sure Fleur feels the same," she nodded encouragingly despite not knowing the source of her friend's ire, "I assure you we mean it companionably." He finished, and waited for Tonks' response which was given after a few moments with uncharacteristic hesitance.

"I… I'll think about it, ok? You're right that my name has certain memories that I've associated with it growing up. But you're also right that you guys are some of my best friends" She added with an uncharacteristically soft smile.

"That's all we ask," Harry responded with a wide smile, mirrored on his girlfriend's face. Tonks quickly snapped back into her bubbly personality.

"Right then! Occulmency!"-

oooOoOoOooo

Harry watched on as Tonks walked his girlfriend through the same exercises he had been put through a few hours earlier. As Fleur entered the proper state of mind he gradually noticed an increase to the strength of her natural allure. It seemed that the young veela was unconsciously restraining herself as she went about her day, the relaxed state her mind was currently in apparently released the subconscious shackles she kept on her aura. Harry steeled himself to his lowered inhibitions, the veela magic even slightly effecting someone as resistant as himself, though still less so than some weaker-willed wizards.

Disregarding the effect of her aura, Harry felt Fleur had never looked more beautiful. For once she completely relaxed, perfect features haloed in the physically manifesting white glow of her allure. Tonks seemed to be facing a similar struggle to himself, though the fact didn't come as much as a surprise as he would have thought, the woman was a natural flirt, and didn't seem to discriminate between men and women. Regardless, to his amusement the playful ex-Auror was visibly restraining herself against the effect of the magical pheromones as she continued her instruction.

"A…Alright Fleur, I'll invade your mind just at the surface, try to recognize the foreign presence, 3… 2…1… _Legillimens_." Moments after casting, Tonks jerked back, as if physically struck, heaving deep breaths like she had just run a marathon. The girls stared at each other, wide amber and red met confused cerulean blue. Fleur quirked an eyebrow with an unspoken question, and Tonks began to explain.

"It seems you have some type of natural defense to your mind, the only other time I've experienced something like that was when I legillimized a werewolf. The inner animal residing within the psyche of someone afflicted with lycanthropy will attack anyone attempting to invade their mind as well."

"When did you have to have to use legillimency on a werewolf, Tonks?" Harry asked curiously.

Tonks shot an understanding look towards him, having a feeling what was running through his mind. "You're thinking about Remus, aren't ya' Harry?," she said with a roll of her eyes, "Yes Lycanthropy is a terrible disease that does not make someone a bad person, but there are still bad people who also have the disease, those that embrace the savage instincts that come along with the affliction, Aurors unfortunately have to deal with mostly the bad ones."

"You misunderstand, Tonks, I'm well aware of how dangerous they can be, Remus missed his wolfsbane dose and was running loose on Hogwarts grounds at the end of my second year, yes he's an extremely caring person, but he has his flaws as well, flighty tendencies and forgetfulness being some of them." Harry answered somewhat bitterly.

Remus, despite being one of his parents' closest friends and having the means to contact him, had written significantly less than Sirius who literally had a kiss on site order on him and would be recognized instantly by any citizen of Magical Britain, disregarding the anonymity lent by his animagus form.

Tonks' reaction matched Fleur's hiss of irritation at the carelessness of the man. "Disregard of human life that is," she said, shaking her head but then she gained an amused smirk, "Ya' know, I think he has a thing for me, judging by how nervous he gets when he talks to me."

This slightly irritated Harry but he buried the nagging emotion for further thought at a later date, perking up as Fleur spoke again. "'Zis Remus was your Defense teacher, _non?"_ Harry nodded, and Fleur turned to Tonks and spoke again, "'Zen you must not accept his advances, you deserve somzing more!" Harry couldn't help but agree with the statement nodding along.

"Didn't know ya' felt that strongly for me _Aphrodite,_ " Tonks whispered seductively as she passed Fleur after rising from the floor. If Harry wasn't mistaken her cheeks had gained a slight rosy tint. Tonks spun around facing both of them, "I know I'm hot shit and all, but you misunderstand, I doubt the timid old man would actually act on his feelings from what I've seen of him so far, not that I would reciprocate if he did," She looked away, thinking for a second. "It's not even the age thing, I just don't think I could live with his low self-esteem." Harry agreed, their personalities were like fire and ice, and his slight twinge of jealousy, for Harry was a reasonable person and could recognize the obvious, was appeased for the moment. His slightly less than platonic feelings for the talented witch were something that would need to be addressed in the future.

Instead of voicing his inner thoughts immediately, he chose a much more diplomatic response: "I can't help but agree with that. He spent the years after Voldemort's first fall as a drifter feeling sorry for himself instead of keeping an eye on me, not that it was his job to do so, he's allowed his time to grieve after all, but more so the impact it's had on his sense of self-worth."

Harry paused briefly, letting the feelings of resentment flow out of him, he didn't know if it was the effect of finally having his mind to himself, or the meditation effecting his mood, but he settled his thoughts much faster once again thinking rationally. He decided to get their conversation back on track, "So Fleur's got some freaky bird spirit thing protecting her mind?" His girlfriend who had finally risen from the floor and glided over to join him on the couch, flicked him in the side of the head before settling into his side.

"You not all that far off the mark," Tonks snickered, "It felt like an attack from a foreign presence, though not entirely human."

"I 'ad wondered why I was not taught Occlumency when I was given heritage lessons at my maturity, it seems 'zat 'zey did not bother due to 'ze natural defense," She paused, considering her next words, "I 'zink I will continue 'ze lessons if you don't mind, 'ze meditation will be good for my mastery of 'ze allure, _non?_ " Tonks nodded energetically.

"I didn't say anything earlier, but when you let loose I totally wanted to jump your bones," Tonks blurted with her usual tact causing Fleur to blush slightly yet she remained stoically unapologetic.

"I assume you can imagine how zat level of allure would be impractical in public places," her embarrassment turning into slight pride. Harry though it was well deserved and said as much.

"You've never been more beautiful to me, _never_ hide who you are if you don't want to." Fleur was touched at his sincerity, giving him a loving kiss on the cheek.

"Alright, Loverboy, looks like we're done for the day, you two try to get _some_ sleep," Tonks said with a wink, nearly flying out the front door, "I've got _big_ plans for tomorrow!" She called over her shoulder before the door closed with an audible _click_ followed by a _crack_.

The couple's eyes met, "Any idea what she's got planned?" Harry said with a smile.

" _Non,_ but I _do_ know what _I've_ got planned." Fleur murmured with a lilt as she rose from his side, and sauntered to her bedroom door, "Come to bed _'Arry."_ she called over her shoulder.

He did.


	14. Chapter 14

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

Harry dove to the ground dodging a trio of whirling shuriken as he thought, not for the first time that day that perhaps asking to be drilled by a trigger-happy Auror with a penchant for flinging sharp objects, may not have been the best decision with regards to his health.

The day had started very much like the previous one, waking to the sight of his beautiful girlfriend and spending a lazy morning fooling around before getting ready for the day.

It was a few minutes into breakfast when Tonks had barged in on the pair with her usual brash attitude and dragged them out the door crying 'time to whip you two into shape' sporting a manic grin. She then proceeded to portkey the pair to what he was informed was the Ministry of Magic lobby. He barely had time to take in the shining golden magical fountain and rows of fireplaces transporting bustling ministry employees to work before he was once again whisked off by the energetic ex-Auror to the check-in desk.

Three registered wands, a short elevator ride, and several hallways later and the trio were entering the Department of Magical Law enforcement, heading for what Tonks called the Auror simulation room, apparently capable of producing various artificial environments used to simulate combat situations for trainees and Aurors alike.

Rather thane explain the room's various features, Tonks had thought it better to toss him into the deep end.

Harry rolled behind a dilapidated building seeking cover from the assault of his interim instructor. He glanced across the street to the alley opposite him where Fleur was taking cover in a similar manner whispering under her breath.

Tonks had felt that she could take on both of them while she imparted this so called 'lesson,' a prediction that in hindsight was currently coming to fruition. His thoughts were interrupted as a blinding flash seared his retinas with white light.

Blind and disoriented, Harry erected a shield on reflex.

It was fortunate that he did so, as dual laceration curses that would have taken him out at the ankles, slammed into the lower half of his shield. However, the magical shield, only blocking spells and not projectiles, failed to stop the banished knife that nicked his upper thigh leaving a shallow yet painful laceration.

Harry let out a hiss at the wound, but to his relief had begun to regain his vision. Blinking through bleary eyes, he made out the indistinct figure of Tonks, who slowly advanced on his position. She precisely flourished her wand, a conductor leading her symphony of death.

Harry cast a numbing charm on the laceration allowing him to move more freely, before parrying the first two spells she'd fired, both an unrecognizable ghostly blue hue, which impacted the storefronts to his left and right, seeming to have no effect on the environment. '

He had no clue what they were, and sure as hell didn't plan to find out.

His magic answered his call much more willingly as he regained his rhythm, transfiguring the next three knives sent whistling towards him into pillows and slapping them harmlessly to the side with a negligent flick of his wand. Harry pulled a pile of discarded debris into the path with a masterful use of levitation and summoning charms to intercept the next three spells, leaving a handful of rocks levitating before him. He quickly transfigured them into his familiar steel darts before banishing them individually at the approaching Auror, who, as usual did _not_ raise a shield, preferring to use her inhuman flexibility to duck and sidestep Harry's barrage of projectiles. She jumped over the last one, casting an unfamiliar spell towards her feet, then proceeded to run on the wall… _on the wall._

That was a new one…

Tonks' trek had taken her to the second story of a nearby shopfront from which she rained down spellfire from above. Rather than stay on the defensive, Harry peppered Tonks with a couple _confringos,_ which the agile witch danced around letting them crash into the building behind her. Her answered cackle was truly terrifying, made even more so as she blasted the street apart with several explosive spells.

Harry banished a door behind him into the lower floor of a similar shop on his side of the alley, taking cover inside. Fleur, who had vanished since that last time he'd seen her had yet to make a move, but if he knew his girlfriend, she would capitalize on any opening he could give her.

He waited until the sounds of the magical bombardment ceased for a moment before taking careful aim through the corner of a shattered window; he could spy Tonks searching for movement in his building from the second floor of the store opposite him. Knowing returning fire would immediately reveal his location, he took his time to make his one shot count.

" _Tenebris,"_ Harry quietly incanted, letting his intent guide the flow of his magic down his arm and through his holly wand. The shadowy-grey spell that left said wand rushed across the distance between Tonks and himself, striking true, it's effects made evident by the distress spreading over Tonks's features.

The spell, as its Latin origin suggested, was an optical impairment curse similar to the spell the blue-haired Auror had used on Harry only minutes earlier. Though instead of _that_ spell's effect akin to a muggle flash bang, _Harry's_ removed the target's perception of light altogether. The spell itself was relatively harmless and the effects could be removed with the proper counter curse, but when used in conjunction with more lethal spells it could be absolutely devastating.

It was a testament to Tonks' skill that she was able to dance around the silent bludgeoning curse and _incarcerous_ that Harry followed up with, blinded as she was. It seemed that those in tune with their magic had a bit of a sixth sense for it, able to tell the general timing a direction of incoming spells. Tonks tried to transfigure a physical barrier from surrounding materials, shielding for the first time in the skirmish, but transfiguration without being able to see what you're working with was difficult at the best of times. The wooden barrier formed, but was sloppily constructed, an altogether flimsier product than one you would expect from someone as prodigious in the art as a metamorphmagus.

From Harry's vantage point he witnessed Tonks counter his curse, agilely bringing her wand to bear just in time to fire off a silent cutter, bisecting the conjured ropes that seemed to come out of nowhere, but was not quick enough to block the banisher that followed, slamming into Tonks from her right flank, sending her careening off the second floor of the building to the alley below.

A reflexive cushioning charm from the ex-Auror prevented serious injury, but her situation was no less dire, Harry grinned slightly as the lithe form of Fleur shimmered into view, wand held aloft, eyes sharpened with hawk-like focus.

The last of her disillusionment charm fell as she focused on the runic array that was now glowing visibly framing the space around where Tonks had fallen. The Auror, still dazed slightly from the impact, was helpless against the forces the enchantment began to exert on her body. Fleur's shoulders sagged noticeably as the runic enchantment solidified, fully incapacitating their instructor, who's limbs were now flush with the street, not for lack of struggling to escape. Harry fired a final disarming charm, separating Tonks from her wand and hopefully, for he could go on no further, putting an end to the simulation.

"Cutting it a bit close there eh Fleur?" Harry drawled sarcastically, hobbling out from behind his cover towards where his girlfriend held their mutual friend captive.

She gave a gentle smirk. "Just because I don't charge ahead, spells blazing like _someone_ I know, doesn't mean my way doesn't work 'Arry," She countered, rolling her eyes as she disenchanted her gravity ward, freeing Tonks' limbs.

"Hey I had her right where I wante—" Harry's indignant response was cut off as he was promptly blasted off his feet and bound in the restricting conjured ropes of the incarcerous spell. A glance to his left revealed Fleur in a similar situation. They both glanced back to Tonks' diminutive form which was strolling casually to the bound pair, a cocky grin plastered across her pixie like features.

"Lesson one, _always_ check for a second wand," She lectured, making a point of summoning their own wands from their bound forms. "Do you yield?" She asked, leveling her own at the pair. Harry gave an affirmative grunt, irritated at the seemingly obvious mistake.

"I was under 'ze impression 'zat restraining and disarming would end 'ze test _non?"_ Fleur groaned testily.

Harry inwardly smiled, apparently Fleur felt the same way…

"But you didn't disarm me did you?" Tonks responded matter of factly. "And the reality _is_ Death eaters will, more likely than not, carry a second wand. Assuming they don't will get you killed, Fleur." She finished seriously. Fleur acquiesced her point, properly chagrined. Tonks canceled the binding on her two temporary students while the abandoned alleyway that served as their battleground shuddered and shifted back into its original state. Sleek, black walls made of an unknown material stretched in every direction for several meters revealing the original medium sized bare room.

"Frankly, you two put on a better showing than most of the ninnies I trained with in the academy," Tonks said, handing the pair back their wands and returning to the topic at hand. "You successfully restrained me in a two on one situation which, despite the one dimensional tactics I was using, is still impressive for how little professional training you've had. Fleur's runic array in particular was masterfully prepared and that fact that you can do so during combat is invaluable."

Fleur ducked her head graciously, as Harry tossed an arm over her shoulder proudly. "My girlfriend the genius enchantress," he joked pompously, to which Fleur proceeded to shove him off playfully.

Tonks grinned at the two before continuing her review, "Fleur's more passive approached worked well since Harry here was keeping me occupied with a direct frontal assault, quite impressively I might add," she grinned at said wizard, "but keep in mind you might not always have that distraction to buy you time for more time intensive ward traps." Fleur nodded, agreeing with the fact.

"I'll assume you can fight head on as well from what I know of your dueling background, just be prepared to use it if you have to," Tonks said, before turning her attention to Harry with a grin. "As for you… you were an animal out there! I knew you had the instinct for battle from that day in the alley but this just proves it!" She cried, gaining energy as she thought back on the brief skirmish she had with the young wizard. We'll work on your spell repertoire but your combat sense is already at an extremely high level, _and_ you're adept at using your environment to your advantage, not to mention that wicked blinding curse you nailed me with." She enthused.

Harry smiled slightly at the praise. It was nice to be acknowledged for all of his effort so far, especially by someone who had been trained professionally. "Thanks, Tonks, though like you said before, you were fairly one dimensional in your attack, intentionally I'm assuming now, so it's not that big a deal." He responded modestly.

"That may be, but what's important that you recognized the fact. Though skirmishes that are simple firefights aren't unheard of, its more common that if you're engaged with an enemy wizard you're going to be fighting with some kind of objective you're trying to achieve, keeping _that_ in mind and not bullheadedly slinging spells just for the hell of it is key to staying alive." Harry nodded in understanding, as did Fleur who was also taking this information to heart. "Most of the time you'll be fighting trying to defend a location. For example, say the Death Eaters are sieging the home of a Ministry official. Strategically defending said location is more important than taking out as many fighters as possible. In _our_ simulation it was a bit more straightforward, but you still have an objective, can you remember what I said before we started?"

Harry thought back to when they began the simulation. He was barely given time to register Tonks' instructions before he was assaulted by constant spellfire, but a simple command of: "defend yourselves," was all the instruction he remembered receiving. His eyes widened in realization.

"I get it," he said, turning his silver-rimmed eyes back to Tonks, "You only told us to defend, within those parameters we could have just bunkered down and waited for you to come to us, instead of actively pursuing you." The metamorph was nodding in satisfaction before he even finished.

" _Exactly_ , though I didn't give much of a chance to run, and incapacitating me is another way to defend yourself, but keep in mind you always have the option in that kind of situation." Tonks ran a hand through her hair shortening it slightly for convenience, lost in thought for a moment. "There's one thing I want you to try Harry." He perked up again, curious at the look of thought on her face. "Do you remember when you used those rocks to block my spellfire after those two vertigo hexes I sent at you?" Seeing his vacant look, she clarified, "The smoky blue ones, you parried them both then started blocking with levitated rocks off the ground."

Harry thought briefly, then remembered the moment she was speaking of, but saw nothing peculiar about it. "I remember, what about it?"

"Well the thing is, blocking spells with levitated objects is probably the most efficient way to stop a spell, disregarding the ones that react explosively, levitated debris will block most spells, it's just that most wizards don't do so because they lack the perception and reflexes to move objects in different directions at that high speed simultaneously. But you seemed to do it intuitively," Tonks explained. "Think you can do it again?"

Thinking back on it, Harry didn't really remember what combination of spells he used, moving the levitated objects to intercept the spells had been intuitive like Tonks said. Maybe it was some combination of summoning and banishing charms?' Harry mused, unsure of how exactly he got that result. He voiced his thoughts, wanting to be able to replicate it at will, now that Tonks pointed out how useful it could be.

"Let's try something," the older witch proposed. She strolled to the middle of the room, conjuring four small blocks of wood, "Come sit facing the blocks, Harry." He complied, curious of Tonks' goal.

Seeing the young man in position, she continued. "Now levitate two of the blocks at eye level, on either side of your head." He did so with barely a twitch of his wand, bringing the wooden cubes steadily to eye level, demonstrating his already adept ability at truncating wand movements.

Tonks nodded in satisfaction. "Good, now put them in an orbit around you," seeing Harry do so Tonks gave further instruction. "Right, now while keeping that revolution going, levitate the next two blocks just keeping them steady."

Tonks watched on, curious to see if the young wizard was capable of splitting his attention between the two commands. This ability was what most magicals lacked, and therefore were unable to efficiently use this technique. Harry slowly lifted the two remaining blocks with another flick of his wand, keeping the two already in orbit around his head in motion. The blocks did not rise as steadily as the first two, but he seemed to have no trouble keeping the commands separate. Tonks grinned in satisfaction while Fleur watched on, pride in her boyfriend evident on her face.

"Try to make the two stable blocks revolve in the opposite direction, Harry," Tonks murmured quietly, not wanting break his concentration. For a couple seconds there was no change, but then the specified objects began to shakily rise further into the air, around a foot higher than where the other two continued their steady revolution. The blocks began to revolve slowly, intersecting every quarter turn, but after a few seconds Harrys concentration slipped and one of the spinning blocks was flung across the room, narrowly missing Tonks' head. The fact barely phased her though, evident from the massive grin that split her face. "Looks like you've got something else you need to practice along with occlumency, Harry," She said. "And frankly, this'll be _way_ more fun than sitting still for hours."

"I see what you mean," Harry shot back, recognizing the potential of mastering this particular skill, "If I got good enough at it, this is borderline telekinesis,"

Fleur added her two cents, "I always said you would be great, 'Arry, did I not?" She said, pecking him on the cheek, and getting a grateful smile in return.

"Alright, lovebirds, we're not done for the day," Tonks interjected, "Wonderboy, any time you can, use that exercise I just showed you, if it gets too easy, add more objects and make them heavier. After that, you could also change their paths up." Harry nodded in agreement so she continued, "Alright! Before we leave, you're going to learn any of the spells I used against you today that you don't already know," she lectured, flicking her wand towards the wall, making a row of targets appear on the opposite wall several meters away. "We'll start with the vertigo hex I mentioned earlier, which I assume you don't know since you didn't recognize it?"

"Yep, no clue," Harry confirmed.

"I too 'ave not learned 'zis spell," Fleur added.

Tonks gave a nod, "Right! Well the vertigo hex is a spell designed to disorient targets without permanent harm. It gives the impression of being inebriated, and Aurors favor it due to it being non-lethal and extremely useful in apprehending targets. Personally, I'll weave them in between harder hitting curses since not only does the spell have a quick projectile speed, but its wand motion is short as hell." She added with a feral grin, but it turned more appreciative as she tacked on, "It's a testament to your reaction speed that you were able to parry both of them, Harry."

The mentioned younger wizard tipped his head, acknowledging the compliment.

"Wand movement's a backhanded flick, like if you were using a tennis racket," Tonks explained, miming the motion.

"Incantation?" Fleur asked, as she imitated the motion herself.

" _A_ _ngustiæ_ _"_ Tonks intoned slowly. It took Harry a bit longer than his girlfriend, who was a bit more versed in various languages, but he was soon pronouncing the spell to both of the girls' satisfaction. He took his position opposite the target, movements matched on his left by Fleur. Despite the grueling work, Harry couldn't be happier with the situation. He could _finally_ build an arsenal that he could use to defend himself and his precious people. He inhaled deeply through his nose and reached for the familiar flow of his magic, shaping it to his will while feeling Tonks' eyes on him from the right and the familiar tingle of Fleur's own magic on the left. An errant thought ran through his head as he hoped they would remain there for as long as they were both willing. Harry smiled to himself; he really couldn't hope to find a better pair of friends. He exhaled sharply through his nose as his eyes narrowed in focus, letting the magic burst forth as he snapped out his wand in a backhanded flick. " _Angustiæ_ _!"_

oooOoOoOooo

It was after two more hours of drilling spells that the trio found themselves finally exiting the Department of magical law enforcement, though not before Tonks had nicked the two younger magicals their own auror-grade wand holsters, citing her instructor Moody's advice to 'avoid blasting off your buttocks.' Harry gratefully took the holster from the excitable ex-Auror, not willing to test the theory as the trio made their way towards the magical lift.

"If you 'ave been suspended from 'ze auror force, are we even supposed to be 'ere? Let alone steal from 'zeir supplies?" Harry had to admit Fleur's point was a valid one, but his view was apparently not shared by Tonks who merely shrugged uncaringly as they boarded the magical lift.

"Their loss, I was gonna' be the best damn Auror they ever had!" she cried in faux self-righteousness, "You just wait, they'll be crawling back to me, begging for my expertise this time next month!" Tonks' amusing tirade was cut short by the ding of the lift stopping and an unpleasant girlish giggle, which came from the now ajar lift doors.

"Oh dear _Nymphadora,_ I highly doubt the Ministry will have any need for your particular _breed_ of… _peculiarity."_ The veiled insult had come from a squat woman who'd boarded the lift from the floor housing the department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Even without the immediate insult to one of Harry's closest friends, he felt a dislike for this woman start to blossom. Everything from the fake smile plastered across her face to the air of self-importance she carried herself with was immediately off-putting. Harry was not one to judge people for their appearances but along with her unpleasant attitude, the particularly squashed face and green dress robes gave the woman the appearance of a particularly large toad. Any judgment Harry had reserved on her was thrown out the window, however, with her next comment.

"It seems I was right to push for your suspension, dear, you really _are_ unbalanced to resort to keeping company like _this_." She sneered, eyeing Harry and Fleur like something she had stepped in. "The _famous_ boy-who-lived to spout lies and a filthy half breed. You'll both get what you deserve eventually. Justice is _always_ served," she finished ominously.

The witch stepped out of the lift which had arrived on the floor of the Minister's office without a backwards glance, stubby legs leaving a steady clack in her wake as she waddled her way down the hallway.

Harry seethed at the slight to Fleur, his wand, which had made its way into his hand, sparking with barely restrained magic. He knew Britain's tolerance for other magical races was lower than most countries, but he had never witnessed such a blatant bout of racism before. It was only the calming hand on his shoulder that stopped him from marching after the twisted woman. Locking eyes with his girlfriend he saw her shake her head slightly.

" _Non,_ 'Arry, 'zough I am happy you are angry on my be'alf she is not worth it, and I am used to it."

"But you shouldn't _have_ to be used to it. It's disgusting. _She's_ disgusting," Harry replied irritably, but calmed down slightly. She smiled at his opinion on the matter, grateful her boyfriend was so understanding. The moment was interrupted by an indignant outburst from their mutual friend.

"I fucking _knew_ that cunt was the one that got me sacked! The bitch couldn't stand me since my first day in Auror academy," Tonks cried irately. "She _would_ be the kind of person who would favor a pureblood over an innocent girl, just because she was muggleborn!" The trio stared after the waddling woman's retreating form. "Just watch your back, Harry, something tells me we haven't seen the last of _that_ toad." Tonks added. Harry snorted at the title.

"She _does_ look like a toad! I thought I was crazy for thinking it!" He smiled.

"Of course, it's obvious, she's a joke to most of the veteran Aurors, though there _are_ some pricks that buy into her blood supremacist nonsense," Tonks mused.

"Some'ow 'zat does _not_ surprise me," Fleur added, her distaste at the worst Britain had to offer evident in her expression.

Harry swung an arm around both of their shoulders, noting in the back of his mind that he had grown slightly taller than Fleur, and positively dwarfed Tonks, at least while she was in her preferred smaller body. "Sooo, how are we getting back to Fleur's place?"

"Uhh… about that…"

"You forgot to make 'ze return portkey _non?"_ Fleur teased lightly, causing Tonks to smile sheepishly. Harry just smiled fondly at the two, as they made their way to the fireplace to take the floo network to the Leaky Cauldron.

oooOoOoOooo

Moments earlier Walden Mcnair was seated at his desk in the Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures. His days at the ministry were both monotonous and lacking the excitement of the good ole' days of daily raids with his fellow pureblood wizards. Oh how he longed for the days when he could stalk the lesser beings unrestrained, butchering as he pleased, but he knew the temporary peace was a necessary evil, his position within the ministry was paramount to the continued surveillance of the Dark Lord's enemies, not to mention he held a particular unique insight into the various races within Magical Britain.

It was on _this_ particular day however, that his monotonous routine was broken when he heard raised voices coming from the hall outside his doorway.

"I don't _care_ what your protocol is! This is a direct order from the minister of magic!"

"B-but the dementors aren't supposed to leave Azkaban for any reason less than an escaped prisoner, and even the situation last year was violating several laws in the first place," came a meek response. Mcnair instantly recognized the high pitched voice of that detestable Umbridge woman. Despite holding a similar viewpoint to his party he still found the detestable woman's presence nearly unbearable. He wondered briefly what the woman would want the soul sucking monsters for in the first place, but dismissed the thought a second later. What she did with her time was none of _his_ business.

"Are you questioning the judgement of your _Minister_? Perhaps we need a more capable hand managing those deplorable creatures, one without such treasonous thought running through their heads." Mcnair heard her give that obnoxious giggle through the door nearly gagging at the sound.

"No! no please I wasn't questioning your judgement, ma'am… you're sure the creatures are for the boy's protection?" Now _that_ got Mcnair's attention, he could think of only one 'boy' that was high profile enough to warrant having dementors sent for his protection, he listened in hoping for a confirmation of his suspicions.

"Yes yes don't you worry, the Potter boy will be nice and _safe,"_ came Umbridge's reply to Mcnair's glee. This could be a chance to gain the dark lord's favor, perhaps he'd be raiding again sooner than he thought. He listened to the Senior Undersecretary strong-arm the rookie employee into sending a pair of dementors to Surrey. The location of Harry Potter's residence was no longer a secret among the dark lord's inner circle, having spies within the upper echelons of the minister had its perks after all, but any attempt to breach the location was met with failure. Mcnair very much doubted that Umbridge was sending the dementors for the boy's safety, the Ministry had been slandering the boy for weeks after all. It _would_ make sense to take a more direct approach to silencing the boy, at least in Umbridge's psychotic mind anyway. Perhaps using creatures that were attracted to the souls of magicals would finally make some headway through the layers of protection around Privet Drive. His mind made up, he strode through the doors to his office, intent on doing a bit of strong arming of his own. The process of requesting and retrieving dementors from Azkaban, legally anyway, was intensive and would likely take several weeks.

It wouldn't do to let a rookie handle the deployment of such dangerous creatures after all.


	15. Chapter 15

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

Harry sat alone at the dining room table of Fleur's apartment, a collection of books floating languidly in the space above his head. Though it really could be considered as both of their apartment at this point, he _was_ living here full-time after all. However, at this point in time, the space was devoid of any other human presence.

Dobby puttering around the kitchen making Harry his lunch obviously didn't fall into the 'human' category. The apartment, though small by wizarding standards, had a significantly homier feel to it than it did when Harry had first laid eyes on it weeks previously. Fleur's work desk across the room, which was a more compact version of the one she kept at work was strewn with the remnants of her latest personal projects, and despite Dobby's diligent work at keeping the space clean, books littered most of the horizontal surfaces as both Harry and Fleur studiously worked to further their knowledge both academically and in practical magic.

It had been close to two weeks since the couple's first visit to the ministry, and according to Tonks, were both progressing beyond her already lofty expectations. Despite Harry's fairly modest attitude, even he could admit his satisfaction with the progress he was making.

The levitating library in the space above him was a testament to his every-increasing mastery over spacial manipulation, as he had taken to calling his levitation technique. But as prodigious as Harry felt his progress had been lately, the young wizard wouldn't be able to truly tell how capable he had become until he could face an actual opponent. There's only so much one can simulate after all, and Fleur and Tonks would never be able to actually attempt to harm him, nor would he them.

What could those two be up to… Harry wondered to himself as he eyed the text of the darkly bound book floating open steadily in front of him. The pair had left earlier that morning to spend the afternoon together, and Harry was glad to see that the two had grown so close over the past few weeks of intense training. To his satisfaction, they were now the best of friends. In the young wizard's opinion that connection was something missing from both of their lives, the two beautiful witches having grown up with prodigious talent, lacked someone they could level with as equals.

He brought his attention back to the single familiar tome hovering in front of him, the ominous dark bindings and spidery lettering taunting him with the contained information. Days earlier he had revisited _Secrets of the Darkest Arts,_ making good on his promise to research possible explanations for the situation that occurred while getting his vision corrected.

The excursion weeks previously had initially been intended to research Voldemort's resurrection ritual, but the ancient tome had seemed like a likely place to find an explanation for the wraithlike presence that had appeared during his own botched ritual.

It was his great misfortune that his hunch was correct. _Horcruxes_.

The madman had made horcruxes, the epitome of the desecration of a human soul. Wizards had been driven mad by tearing their soul asunder even once, yet after reading the spine tingling description of the wraiths created by such objects, it was obvious that the man had made more than one, having encountered two personally.

And one had been in his _head_ this whole time!

This would explain Voldemort still being alive after all this time. How many soul jars the man had created was still unclear, but the lack of information would be a constant thorn in his side. He briefly wondered how much Dumbledore knew on the subject. Having known Riddle since he was fifteen, Harry doubted the old man was completely ignorant of his actions. If that was the case, collaboration with the old man would be inevitable, but for the moment he could do nothing to better the situation.

He snapped the old tome closed with a flick of his wand having gotten in the habit of performing more magic in everyday situations to further his precision and control. The books dancing above his head came to an abrupt stop, before falling lightly to the tabletop with a staccato series of thuds. Dobby, efficient as always, cleared the table with a sharp snap of his fingers before plopping down a bowl of steaming…

"Dobby… what's this?" Harry asked eyeing the steaming bowl of rice topped by a brownish sauce that gave off a distinct spicy aroma. The dish seemed like something he had seen on TV sometime during his childhood.

"It's curry, Master Harry Potter Sir," Dobby replied with a sheepish expression, "Mistress Nymphie told Dobby to give Master Harry more variety." Harry hoped for Dobby's sake that he never called Nym that to her face, noting briefly that the young elf's grammar had improved dramatically since they had bonded, though he still seemed incapable of referring to himself in first person. Harry shrugged his shoulders, entirely willing to try new foods having not been given the opportunity to in his childhood. Finding he quite liked the savory taste and spicy flavorings he dug in with gusto.

A few minutes later Harry sighed with a contentment one could only have with a full belly. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled greatfully at the elf. "Thank you, Dobby, that was excellent."

A fluttering of wings brought his attention to Hedwig gliding through the window from the kitchen, a sizeable package clutched in her talons. The beautiful snowy owl dropped the package lightly to the tabletop, before alighting upon his shoulders.

"Hey there, girl, what've _you_ been up to? Break any owl hearts lately?" Hedwig puffed up her feathers imperiously, as if to say emphasize her obviously desirable traits. "Yeah, I know you're the prettiest owl around, girl," He answered fondly, scratching her under the head. She nipped playfully at his fingers before gliding across the room to the luxurious wooden perch that he had transfigured for her, leaving Fleur to charm it to be self-cleaning among other features beyond his skill level.

Harry turned his attention back to the package, which, on closer inspection, was an unassuming brown box around a cubic foot in size. Casting various diagnostic charms to test the legitimacy of the package was going a bit overboard considering how particular Hedwig was about who she would let near her, let alone attach something to her leg. But one could never be too careful with the current political climate as it was. Finding nothing alarming about the box he tore open the strings holding the top on and opened the letter he found at the top.

 _Dear our esteemed business partner-who-must-not-be-named,_

Harry snickered at the opening to the letter, immediately knowing who the package was from. Smiling, he kept reading.

 _We hope this letter finds you in good spirits and up to your ears in mischief. For obvious reasons we will refrain from mentioning our location, but know that we are safe with the rest of the family who all wish you the best, though they might not be the best at showing it. At the beginning of the summer you gave us a donation most generous, and this package is the result of said funding so far. Contained within this package are the preliminary products, both completed and those still being tested as well. We thought our silent benefactor would appreciate being included in the testing process as we had discussed earlier this summer. Feel free to suggest any adjustments you see fit. We hope you have as much fun testing the products as we did making them._

 _-F & G_

Grin splitting his face, Harry was just about to dive into the box of goodies when he heard a commotion at the door indicating the girls had returned just in time to get in on the fun.

"Whatcha' got there, Wonderboy?" came the voice of Tonks as she slung an arm over his shoulder. Harry had long gotten used to the eccentric witch's somewhat clingy embraces so answered without hesitance.

"Not much, Nym, only the latest and greatest from the Weasley twins," he grinned, greeting Fleur, who had sat on his other side, with a brief kiss. Hearing the answer, the blonde witch peered into the box warily, yet curious at what the duo of pranksters could have sent her boyfriend.

"'Zey 'ave sent you a… rubber ear?" She asked, holding up the item in question.

"Huh… well I don't actually know what any of this stuff does yet." He dug around the box before pulling out a second piece of parchment. Luckily, the boys had included a detailed list of the products and their individual functions.

Harry's eyes scanned down the list looking for the details regarding the rubber ear held in Fleur's Hand. "Ahah! Here they are, Extendable ears, one of the products they've pretty much completed," Harry clarified, "it seems like they work like muggle walkie talkies only one way. Pull the back of the ear and it'll stretch and act like a receiver and the audio is outputted through the ear end."

As Harry had read from the parchment, Fleur had begun fiddling with the device, stretching it as instructed. Harry turned back to Tonks only to double take when he came face to face with her body sans head. Hearing the bubbly witch snicker in amusement he watched as she reached a hand up to her head, removing an odd looking hat, bringing her head back into being. She gave an elaborate flourish of her hat while bowing.

"Top o' da' morning to ya'" Harry only gave a deadpan look in response.

"Oh come on, that was funny."

"Ha Ha…" He answered sarcastically.

"Everyone's a critic," Tonks grumbled stuffing the hat back on her head petulantly, effectively hiding her pout. Harry found the action surprisingly adorable but refrained from commenting on it.

"I know those are meant to be joke products, but something like that could be incredibly useful if they could be altered to hide the entire body," Harry mused out loud. His attention was grabbed by Fleur's voice behind him.

"'Zis is actually an incredible bit of charms work," she complemented, now casting detection charms around the extendable ears. "With a bit of a tweaking on the runic array 'zat transfers 'ze sound from one end to the ozzer I'll bet I could make 'zem into two pieces wiz'out having 'zem actually be connected to one anozzer." Harry smiled at his girlfriend already taking on another project. The witch was constantly jumping from idea to idea, barely finishing one before taking on another. Meanwhile, Tonks was once again digging through the box from the Weasleys.

"Hmm, what's this?" Harry turned to look at what she'd found before his eyes widened as he witnessed her pop a bright toffee colored candy in her mouth. He recognized the coloring from the previous summer, and immediately dug through the box hoping the twins had finally created an antidote to the tongue-engorging treat. Tonks, in a stark contrast to Dudley's reaction, was grinning widely at the result, well, as widely as she could manage with her tongue now hanging nearly a half foot out of her mouth.

"'Zat… is disgusting." Fleur commented as she watched on, causing Tonks to smile even wider, which made Harry realize her metamorph abilities allowed her to widen her mouth to accommodate the gargantuan size of the enlarged appendage.

"Wha? Oo 'ink 'is 'is usgusing?" the blue haired Auror grunted as she rose to her feet a twinkle in her eyes as she cocked an eyebrow at the statuesque blonde across from her.

"Nym… _non"_ the sheer terror was evident in those two words.

"Ah 'ust 'unna 'ive ah' 'est 'end a 'ug!" Tonks 'said' feigning hurt at Fleur backing away from her. Her now foot long tongue wobbled tauntingly with each step.

"I beg of you! _Non!"_ her pleas fell on deaf ears though, as the blue haired pixie launched across the room and with a yelp Fleur danced off the couch, dodging the cackling metamorph.

Harry sat watching his two girls, for regardless of romantic relationships between them all, they had become his closest friends, and snorted as the smaller of the two chased the other around the room. The antidote was forgotten as he simply sat enjoying the giggling pair as Nym finally caught up to Fleur laying a wet tongue right on her cheek as they both dissolved into laughter.

 _This_ was exactly the kind of thing the wizarding community needed these days, and that was what the twin's joke shop was all about in the first place.

oooOoOoOooo

It was the next day that Harry found the girls and himself warming up for another day of training. They'd taken a break from sparring with magic for the day, instead relocating to the workout area adjacent to the simulation room within the department of magical law enforcement. Harry himself was already quite used to exercising regularly due to his years under the tutelage of Oliver Wood, and he jumped at the chance to continue his routine.

Dobby had begun adding a slow-acting nutrition potion regimen to his daily meals, and that, in addition to a proper diet and regular exercise had caused him to start to develop a physique more appropriate for an active young man his age. At last Harry could reverse some of the damage done by years of malnutrition. While he preferred working up a sweat surrounded by the scenic view of Hogwarts, any excuse that could get Nym and Fleur into spandex yoga pants and sports bras was one he could support wholeheartedly.

Nym was across the room, raining blows into a hanging punching bag, showing an impressive array of boxing combinations from someone whose true calling was magical combat. Harry sat on a padded mat, levitating several 20kg weights above his head while completing his stretches.

He was to a point of mastery over this ability that initiating the spacial manipulation was the only part that required a wand. After the initial magic was pulled forth, the affected objects could be maneuvered by his will alone. He considered that this may apply to certain aspects of other magic as well, but not having put in nearly as much time as he had with this particular skill, he was unable to tell for sure. But the theory was sound, after all, transfigured beasts would continue autonomously after being created.

Though perhaps it was a combination of natural affinity for the spells and diligent practice that had allowed him to manipulate them wandlessly; Harry would not question it regardless. He had found that practicing while completing other tasks bettered his ability to multitask, while the increased weight stressed his magic like a muscle, allowing him to hold greater loads and move them at higher speeds.

It was a testament to her trust in him that Fleur was seated beside him with the slabs of metal floating over both of their heads. Even more impressive was Harry's ability to multitask since his girlfriend's show of flexibility was leaving him drooling. He once more thanked the gods for the decreased modesty of muggle fashion trends. The way the stretchy material strained against the plump flesh of Fleur's bum was positively criminal, and the action was quite intentional if her small smirk was anything to judge by.

He was broken out of his reverie by the sound of raised voices from over by where Nym was previously pummeling the hanging bag, which coincidentally was located closer to the entrance to the gym where a group of slightly older wizards were surrounding the blue-haired witch.

If he were to make a guess, he'd say that they were at least Auror trainees, considering where they were, but they didn't look too friendly. Harry let the weights fall to the ground with a harsh clang, safely out of range of Fleur and himself of course. He eyed Fleur briefly, and seeing she held a similar opinion of the men surrounding their friend, they both rose wordlessly to back her up.

The falling weights had drawn the attention of the wizards who briefly eyed Harry with derision before turning to the beautiful girl beside him, eyes glazed with lust. Harry felt Fleur's aura recede slightly as she utilized her still-developing Occlumency to gain a better hold on the pull. She had taken to loosening the reigns on her allure while only in the presence of her closest friends, due to the fact that it let her relax a bit more. That, and as a favor to Harry, who found that he was becoming quite partial to the feeling of being saturated in Fleur's magic. Being particularly resistant to the mind-impairing effects of the aura, the magic alone, felt particularly intimate to the young wizard.

Seeing the glazed looks of the men disappear, though their gazes weren't any less lecherous, Harry decided to see what the deal was.

"There a problem here, Nym?"

She rolled her eyes, not showing any real distress at the various wizards' presence, as if they were a minor annoyance. "Not in the way _you_ probably mean it, Wonderboy," she answered with a scoff, gesturing to the tallest of the four men "Hadlee here is making an ass of himself as usual." The wizard now identified as Hadlee puffed up in indignation at being brushed off so nonchalantly.

"I was simply informing Ny- Tonks here, that the training rooms in the department are only for _proper_ Aurors to use." The man, who besides being tall was also built like a brick wall, seemed used to throwing his literal and figurative weight around to get his way. He smirked tauntingly at the diminutive witch whom he towered over.

So that answered _that_ question, guess they were Aurors after all… his earlier suspicions confirmed. But from Tonks' attitude, they're no friends of _hers,_ though Harry could have guess that even _before_ this clown opened his mouth. He eyed Nym closer, seeing her eye twitch in irritation at the slight.

"Puh-lease," Tonks shot back to the hulking wizard, "Merlin only knows how a meathead like you even _got_ the NEWTs for the academy in the first place, let alone made it all the way to graduation. I'm assuming one of the higher ups waived the written exam requirements? We _all_ know how much the ministry favors purebloods." Tonks smirked at his answering sneer, knowing she had hit the nail on the head.

"Like I need to take a test to be able to take down dark wizards," he scoffed, a sound echoed by his goylesque bookends, "Speaking of those higher ups you've been slandering Tonks, I wonder how they'd react to you being in here unauthorized, let alone bringing in _children_ with you," he sneered eyeing Harry and Fleur once more. "I'm sure the minister would love to hear about how the _boy-who-lies_ is sneaking into restricted areas in the ministry," he added, smiling in triumph before turning back to Tonks. "Another mark on that record and suspension might be the least of your worries. Though the curvy blonde can stay, I'm sure there's _something_ we can find for her to do." The wizard shot Fleur what he assumed was a charming look.

This asshole…

"Not if you were 'ze last wizard on 'ze planet," came Fleur's quick reply, a grimace twisting her features. The Hulking man waved off the rebuke as if her opinion didn't matter. Harry had had enough of a powerful witch like Nym being manipulated like this, not to mention this sorry excuse of an Auror hitting on Fleur. He eyed the group of rookie Aurors, for he assumed they had all been in this academy along with Tonks, but according to the several times she had mentioned her experiences as a trainee, none of the other recruits even came close to her skill. He turned his attention back to Hadlee who was still posturing, as the stirrings of a plan began to form in his mind.

"So what's it going to be _Nymphadora,_ will you and the kid clear out for the _real_ Aurors?" Before Nym could deck the guy for using her name Harry decided to speak up.

"You talk a lotta' shit for someone who's practically threatening to _tattle_ on us, I thought _I_ was supposed to be the child here?" Harry said with a quirk of his lips. The hulking man turned to him.

"What'd you say, _boy_?"

Harry smirked, "Oh, nothing… I was just wondering if you could actually back up your overly large mouth. You remind me of someone I know from school, always threatening to run to daddy."

It seemed that the man was similar in temperament to Draco as well, as he immediately took the bait, responding with more posturing.

"You don't know who you're messing with, kid," he menaced, getting right up into Harry's personal space. "I was the top duelist of our trainee class." He said, smirking arrogantly.

Harry ignored Nym's mumbled 'only cus I skipped ahead,' suppressing a smile and continued weaving his web. "So you're saying a kid like me shouldn't be here because I'm not _experienced_ enough to use such professional equipment right? I haven't earned the _privelage_?" Harry clarified, leading the cocky wizard. Fleur giggled at his theatrics, beginning to see what he was up to.

"That's right," Hadlee answered smugly.

"So if I were to say… take on a couple of Aurors in a dueling pit? Would that _earn_ me the privilege for my friends and me to be here?" _aaand checkmate._

"What? _You_ think you can take _me_ on _?!"_ The large wizard blustered, laughter echoed by his two henchmen. Nym's eyes, today a light aquamarine complementing her hair nicely, gained a familiar gleam at the potential for a fight. She decided to get a bit of taunting in herself.

"Nuh uh Hulk, not just you, Harry said you _and_ your friends, one on three sounds fair enough right? Unless you're afraid of taking on a _child_?" She said, cocking an eyebrow, loving seeing the man on the backfoot. He frowned briefly, never understanding the strange witch's nicknames but regained his swagger.

"I usually don't pick on kids, but I guess I'll have to make an exception this once."

"Then we have an accord? If I can take you all on in a pit we're free to use the department's facilities and you'll quit giving Tonks shit?" He bargained, sticking out a hand, not expecting the arrogant wizard to actually take it. True to his prediction, the man simply turned around motioning for his gang to follow.

"See you in the simulator, and try to at least give us a _little_ entertainment, I'll at least be able to say I beat the Boy-who-lived." He added, smirking.

After the group of Auror rookies had departed for the simulator he turned to the girls, Fleur shook her head exasperatedly, "Must you always play 'ze 'ero, 'Arry?"

"Of course he does! This time he gets to be _my_ hero," Nym gushed, fluttering metamorph-enhanced eyelashes jokingly. "This is actually perfect timing, we'll get a proper assessment of how your skills are coming along. Sparring with me and Fleur all the time will only make you complacent." She said with wink, then added more seriously, "Hadlee fights how he looks, he's fairly straightforward but he's actually somewhat powerful if you let him land a hit, the rest are mediocre at best. Play your strengths and you'll be fine." She pecked him playfully on the cheek, "And thanks for doing this, you _know_ you didn't have to." After Tonks backed off Fleur stepped forward kissing him deeply on the lips.

"Good luck, love, 'zough I know you don't need it." She smiled, blue eyes shining with pride and admiration. He gave her a lopsided grin in response, words not required before turning and striding through the doorway on the way to the simulator, the girls on his heels.

oooOoOoOooo

The Auror simulation room had transformed once more, this time into a vast colosseum, similar to the one buried deep in the Knocturn Alley basement where he'd first met Tonks. Though in this instance there was a distinct lack of stifling heat and the reek of stale alcohol on the air.

Harry had changed into a pair of plain black lightweight joggers, and a grey knee-length robe made of a similar material, the standard dueling robes most wizards favored were entirely too cumbersome to allow any real kind of movement. He stood at one end of the dirt pit surrounded on all sides by stone walls bouncing lightly, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Standing opposite the young wizard was the hulking form of Auror Hadlee, along with his two friends, all decked out in flowing burgundy Auror regalia. A familiar smirk was stretched across his face, showcasing the ease with which he expected to win the duel.

The room, having no one else within besides the combatants was eerily silent, before Tonks' voice could be heard echoing throughout the room, its origin unknown.

"Well well we've dawdled enough let's get this shit started, you know the stakes, lethal curses are not allowed, nor is anything that can cause permanent dismemberment—"

Hadlee smirked threateningly.

"—so do try to avoid removing too many limbs Harry,"

The man blanched, before glaring menacingly around blindly, not being able to see the witch.

"Are both parties ready?"

Harry nodded in affirmation, shadowed by the larger wizard and his entourage across from him. He slipped his holly wand into his hand with a sharp flick of the wrist, removing it from the holster strapped to his forearm.

"Ready… Begin."

Harry let the magic well within him, noting Hadlee raise his wand as well, but before the wizard could utter a spell Harry unloaded an overpowered bombarda into the dirt floor between the two parties launching boulders and dust into the air. He ducked a trio of stunners fired blindly into the improvised smokescreen by Hadlee and his buddies, smirking at such a cliché opener.

It was probably for the best, if all Aurors had Nym's temperament he doubted the wizarding world would survive.

Harry tapped the tip of his wand to his head, feeling the cool trickle of disillusionment taking effect and fleetly paced away, hugging the side of the arena.

Finally getting their bearings, one of his opponents sent a powerful gust of wind to blow away the dust obscuring their sight. An empty arena strewn with large boulders was all that was visible.

"Show yourself, Potter, I thought it was a duel you wanted not a game of hide and seek! _Hominum Revelio!"_

Even if Harry hadn't heard the man practically shout the incantation, the familiar pulse of magic radiating from Hadlee's wand touching his own aura would have given his chosen spell away anyway.

He gave a sigh, the subtle approached would have been anticlimactic anyway. Harry dropped the charm obscuring him from view and danced to the side as a bludgeoner followed by twin reductos and conjured ropes impacted the space he just left. The fairly short spellchain titled Garrick's greeting, was one of the first taught to Aurors in the academy and was designed to knock an opponent off balance and restrain them quickly, though the reductos _could_ do a bit of damage if they connected.

Harry rolled his eyes at his opponent's apparent lack of creativity as he parried two more stunners from the two other wizards standing beside his primary concern.

Lets see how they handled something a bit more original… Harry grinned, casually summoning four small stones off the ground, transfiguring them into spinning bolas before banishing them one by one across the arena. The trio reacted admirably to the flying projectiles, dodging most and blocking others with a transfigured wooden shield. Smart, a protego wouldn't have blocked those, Harry smiled. He chained a series of bludgeoners with a bit of quick wandwork to throw them off balanced before taking a bit of time to transfigure a length of chain, animating it to snake across the ground towards the wizard on the far left.

With nought but a slight flick of his wand, a mid-sized boulder zoomed towards Harry to intercept the speeding yellow curse that left Hadlee's wand moments earlier. The curse detonated, the momentum of the spell raining shards of rock towards his position.

Harry sidestepped the flying debris, huffing at the close call. He hadn't recognized the spell itself, but judging from the its volatile reaction it seemed the man was finally taking him seriously. Harry, with an overhead flick of his wand, sent a deluge of water towards the auror on the left, now restricted by the animated chain from earlier, soaking the man to the bone. Harry followed up with a carefully aimed frostbite curse, take a bit more time for the complex wand motion. The spell could be quite harmful when used directly on another human as it targeted the interior of the body, but Harry had aimed for the area surrounding the soaked wizard, freezing the water solid and further restricting his movement; not exactly the spell's intended purpose, but whatever worked, right?

With a cry of frustration, Hadlee, rather than attempting to free his friend, launched a series of concussion hexes, followed by a surprisingly impressive bird conjuration spell, the size and complexity of the bird in question resulted in a relative increase in the difficulty of the spell, so his flock of ravens was quite notable.

Harry sprinted up the colluseum wall with a deft application of what Nym appropriately dubbed the stickyfeet charm, while picking off individual birds out of the air with a dozen carefully aimed conjured knives, banishing a couple of the razor sharp daggers at the trio of Aurors for good measure. The ravens that he couldn't take out from range were vanished one by one as they came within a reasonable distance. Harry leaped off the wall to the floor below to avoid the reductos that blasted the wall into pieces, by this point the two unrestrained Aurors had managed to free the third.

Harry cursed softly, he'd either have to separate them or take 'em all out at once or none of them would actually stay down.

Harry peppered the trio with a flurry of basic school yard jinxes which were shielded by Hadlee's bookends while the man himself returned fire with a langlock hex followed by shout of _"Ossis Fragmen!"_

"Jeeze, getting a bit heated there Had', _"_ Harry muttered as he danced out of the way, but this was the opening he'd been waiting for. Using a taxing spell like a bone breaker often left less experienced casters fatigued for a moment. He tugged on his magic, compressing the flow of arcane energy into a high-density dart before releasing it with a jab and a muttered, " _Hastam!"_ The shield-breaker, as its name suggested was nothing more than a concentrated dart of magic, particularly good at shattering magically constructed shields, which is exactly what happened as the crackling blue spell connected. The sound of shattering glass echoing around the stadium, obscuring Harry's following flashbang and concussion hexes.

Temporarily blinded and deafened, the trio of aurors were sitting ducks.

A particularly oppressive spell chain, adequately labeled 'The Restrictor,' left Hadlee disarmed, bound, silenced, and hung upside down by the ankle courtesy of the jinx that rounded off the spell chain 'levicorpus,' which, according to Nym, was popularized by one of the Department's hitwizards who served during the last war. The two low powered stunners Harry flicked towards the two remaining Aurors were dodged easily but the delayed blinding curse he had lobbed over to the pair connected unimpeded. _How_ the creator managed to give a spell actual weight resulting in being able to fling it in an arc was beyond him, but it sure came in handy now. His second round of stunners was enough to finish off the other two Aurors, but he bound them with conujured rope as well to be on the safe side, cleanly finishing the spar with a carefully clarified " _Accio wand **s**_ ," stressing the plural.

"BAHAHAH, he looks like a Christmas turkey! You ok there, Hulk? How's it hangin' buddy?" Harry rolled his eyes at Nym's immature outburst chuckling at Fleur speaking up over the witch's continued guffaws, apparently unable to do her job.

"'Ze winner is 'Arry, wiz' a resounding victory." The pride he heard in her voice was apparent, despite not being able to actually see her. It was more of a reward than any prize he could take away from this whole ordeal. He didn't have to wait long to see the pair, however, since they came through the doorway that materialized into being as the simulation room began to morph back into its original blank state.

He turned to smile at the duo but was abruptly tackled to the ground by a blue haired missile, cackling with glee.

" _That's_ what I'm _talkin'_ about, Wonderboy! You fuckin' wiped the floor with that asshole, couldn't have done it better myself." Nym cried, still straddling the young wizard, "God I've been wanting to do that to the dick for _years_ ," she said, standing once again and offering him a hand up, "not that the coward would ever accept a challenge from me in the first place, baiting him into it was the true masterstroke."

"I concur, 'Arry, you were _wonderful_ , though you were clearly holding back, you barely used _any_ material shields," Fleur purred, hugging him from behind. She spun him around and sensually kissed him, leaving his toes curling. She playfully tugged his bottom lip with her teeth as she pulled away. Apparently, she had enjoyed the brief display of power he had shown, a sentiment echoed by Nym if her catcall was anything to go by.

"I had to make it a _little_ interesting didn't I?" Harry answered, allowing himself a bit of self-satisfaction. Despite his normally modest attitude, he did have a bit of pride in how far along he had come. He was a long way from the helpless boy in the graveyard he'd been months ago.

"Cmon, Wonderboy, we should go out tonight, this is a great excuse to celebrate," Tonks cried, still pumped up from all the action of the afternoon. The hyperactive witch leaped up between the two swinging an arm around each of her taller companions, hanging comically between the two. Harry met Fleur's eyes over Nym's head and they rolled the eyes in tandem at the older witch's antics.

"Shouldn't we do something about your, uh... friends? Nym? Harry hedged.

"Nah, leave em', they'll wake up eventually," She answered negligently, taking the lead out the door, clearly ready to go. The couple quickly followed after her, chuckling good-naturedly at her lack of care for the trio of corrupt rookie Aurors.


	16. Chapter 16

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

 **Hey guys, sorry I'm late, but you get an extra -long chapter for your troubles. Graphic lemon at the end so skip it if that's not your thing. Also, I'll be editing some of the earlier chapters before I release a new one, so we will be taking a couple weeks break from new chapters while that's happening. Anything that I change that will even remotely effect the plot will be summarized whenever that new chapter _does_ come out so you won't have to reread if you don't want to. That being said, enjoy the chapter.**

Tonks felt the various stresses of the day trickle away along with the water running down her trim figure. The Auror let out a sigh, weaving her fingers through her light blue tresses as the warm water soothed her aching muscles.

Even after over twenty years of life as a metamorphmagus she was still unsure of some of the intricacies of her ability. For instance, if she shortened and regrew her hair, would the new style be a completely new head of hair? Would she need to actually wash it? The young witch smiled to herself, _as if._ Showers were a luxury she would _not_ be giving up anytime soon, regardless of the actual necessity of the act. Doing just that, she began thoroughly washing her hair with a bottle of Sleekeasy's standard shampoo and conditioner, smirking slightly at Fleur being forced to resort to such a disgustingly _British_ hair product.

Having had no wish to return to her own apartment before leaving in celebration the day's events, she had gladly usurped the French witch's shower, _after_ allowing her to have her own of course. She wasn't _that_ heartless after all. Tonks' mind trailed back to the happenings of the day as she lathered a bar of soap before trailing her hands slowly over her perky breasts and down her toned stomach to her thighs, washing her troubles away.

Seeing Harry jump to her aid today had stirred something in the young metamorph. It wasn't as if she'd _needed_ the help in the first place, but the gesture was appreciated nonetheless. She was nothing if not aware of her developing feelings for the young man and seeing him go all hero for her had only endeared him to her even more.

She grinned giddily at the thought, it had been a long time since anyone besides her family had accepted every part of her, brash and borderline sadistic personality included. Her few relationships while still in Hogwarts had been superficial to say the least, as the fascination with her abilities really prevented any more meaningful relationships from forming. That wasn't to say that Tonks didn't take advantage of the perks of her abilities for a quick roll in the sack, but besides the brief flings she'd had in school no one had really called to her in any significant way since then. In fact, the only other person besides Harry who had caught her interest lately was the stunning veela currently changing in the next room.

Just the thought of the slender yet well-endowed young woman in the nude brought a blush to the older witch's body. A blush that she allowed to occur despite being completely capable of removing it herself. Her hands roamed south as she let the flowing water wash the suds from her body. Though she ached for release, now was certainly not the time, as the aforementioned veela was waiting for her to finish, and not in a fun way…

Tonks let a trickle of magic flow into the rune on the side of the wall stopping the flow of hot water before stepping out of the shower. She grabbed a towel off the rack, quickly drying herself before wrapping it around her middle, barely covering her bust. It was at this point she reached a dilemma; having gone straight to Fleur's apartment she was without clothes besides her sweaty yoga pants and sports bra, and while cleaning them would be a simple matter with magic, said attire was entirely unsuitable for the club they had planned to go to earlier.

Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time she'd stol- borrowed an outfit from Aphrodite's closet. The ex-Auror smirked before striding through the bathroom door to Fleur and Harry's shared bedroom.

"Hey Aphrodite do you think I cou—"

Whatever Tonks had planned to say was lost as she took in the sight in front of her. Fleur stood in front of her closet, hips cocked to one side, contemplating between the two outfits hung in front of her. Not many things could render Tonks speechless, but the sight of Fleur in nothing but a pair of lacy black cheeky panties and a matching bra was one of them. Noticing her best friend had finished her shower, Fleur turned around, heedless of her partial nudity.

She planted a hand on her hip, the other trailing gracefully along her collarbone. "Is 'zere a problem, Nym?" She smiled demurely, "See some'zing you like?"

Tonks regained her wits enough to nod with a crooked grin before answering, "Is that even a question? If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to seduce me, Aphrodite," she said, sauntering up to the veela with a wink.

"Per'aps you _don't_ know better," Fleur shot back, brushing the pad of her index finger along Tonks' jaw before playfully pecking her on the cheek. "Must you always call me 'zat, Nym? surely someone as… _practiced_ as yourself at giving people nicknames can come up wiz' more of a variety, _non?"_

"You know you love it, hun."

Fleur smiled fondly, "You know me too well, being named after a Greek goddess does wonderful things for a woman's ego, even _if_ 'ze origin is less elegant. You know 'zat word is referring to 'ze severed genitals of Uranus after his son Cronos threw 'zem into 'ze sea, _non?_ " Fleur openly cackled at Tonks' dumbstruck expression. "Per'aps you should read up on your Greek and Roman mythology before using 'zem for nicknames _non?"_ Fleur continued, smiling innocently.

"You made that up!"

" _Non,_ it is 'ze truth."

"I _really_ didn't need to know that," the blue haired witch sighed, screwing up her face, "now I gotta' think up a whole new name to call you," she pouted.

"Please don't," Fleur said quietly with surprising sincerity, "it really _does_ make my day."

Tonks was touched at the vulnerability shown by the normally proud woman, and was equally happy that her friend considered their relationship as close as she did. Tonks embraced the woman who'd turned back to the closet after her earlier confession from behind, kissing her neck briefly. "Love you too, babe," she murmured in her ear, feeling the blonde witch relax in her embrace. The two witches simply stood enjoying the moment in silence before finally parting.

"Alright, Aphrodite, so what are we looking at here," Tonks said turning to the two outfits hanging next to the mirror, "Trynna' impress someone, eh?

"Two someones actually," Fleur murmured, before speaking a bit louder, "The second one's for you, I figured you would need some'zing to wear, _non?_ "

Tonks eyed the two cocktail dresses that hung in the walk-in closet. They were both of a similar cut leaving a single shoulder bare and reaching around mid-thigh. But while one was black, the other was a deep burgundy.

"Not really my style Aphrodite, but I'm sure Wonderboy out there will love it on you," she smiled.

Fleur smiled knowingly, "He will love it on you as well, Nym," she paused, eyeing her figure still only obscured by the short towel, "and so will I." Tonks' heart started racing slightly; the two hadn't really addressed the possibility of a more romantic relationship between the three of them since the day Fleur had enlightened them all about her veela heritage. Having it put out in the open so blatantly had startled the older witch. Her attraction to both of them however, was undeniable, and it seemed that it was reciprocated, at least by the stunning witch in front of her.

She wasn't quite able to suppress the smile that came to her lips.

"Harry wants to try it out as well you know," whispered Fleur, seemingly reading her mind. "We 'ave felt 'ze pull, and you 'ave as well, _non?_ " She continued, stepping once more into Tonks' personal space. She leaned in, pink pouty lips opening slightly in anticipation, before the metamorph closed the distance and met them with her own.

So soft…

The kiss lasted only a second but it held the promise of more. Tonks sighed with the loss of the warmth of Fleur's lips but couldn't keep the cheeky grin off her face, "I can't blame you for that, I mean I _am_ irresistible." Fleur merely rolled her eyes in response.

"Whatever, Nym, now get dressed, I won't hear a word about 'zis dress not being your style, we will _boz'_ look irresistible tonight to impress _our_ man," Fleur said insistently. The emphasis of her statement was not lost on the metamorph, but she was done resisting what felt right. The blonde clearly knew how to be _very_ convincing.

Tonks donned a matching set of underwear that Fleur had flicked at her face with a giggle, morphing her body to a similar stature to the curvy veela to make them fit properly. As she slipped into the burgundy dress she gained a mischievous smirk, turning to her tentative lover to convey her idea.

"Hey, Fleur,"

" _Oui?"_

"How opposed would you be to Harry having uh… _twins_ on his arms tonight?" Tonks was somewhat wary of asking this of her as women tended to react negatively to being imitated by her abilities, but it seemed she had worried for nought, as a matching grin twisted across the beautiful veela's features.

" _Zat,_ my dear Nym, sounds like a _wonderful_ idea _,_ "

oooOoOoOooo

Harry lay reclined on the apartment's living room couch, arm propped up on one end with his chin resting on his knuckles. His uncanny likeness to Rodin's _Thinker_ notwithstanding, Harry's mind had nothing of importance running through it currently. Magically aided meditation was fairly convenient for times like this, he _had_ been waiting for the girls for nearly half an hour after all. But he was not bothered by the fact. If a brief wait was the only cost of the two witches' company for the night, it was a small price to pay.

They were apparently heading out to a magical nightclub that Nym had called _Felicis,_ a name which Harry found a bit ostentatious for his liking. However, despite his distaste for clubs judging from the brief glimpses he had seen of them in the muggle world on TV, he trusted Nym's judgment. At least with something like this…

The sound of a door swinging open brought Harry's attention back to the present causing him to glance up and feast his eyes on a sight that had him rethinking his opinion on the club's name. Lucky was certainly an appropriate descriptor for this night if the current situation was anything to judge by.

Fleur looked even more radiant than usual, pitch black cocktail dress only highlighting her natural beauty. The low cut neckline hinted at a bit of cleavage while remaining tasteful, with the skirt cutting off around mid-thigh. The slit down the left side left little of her mile-long legs to the imagination. Even Harry who'd seen the witch in various states of undres was left gob smacked by the sight of so much creamy flawless skin on display.

But as breathtaking as Fleur was alone, it was Nym by her side that truly completed the scene. Gone were the cutoffs and band shirts that were normal fare for the quirky witch, not that Harry minded her normal style, in fact her unique character was one of the things he loved so much about the woman. But clad in a matching dress to his girlfriend, and morphed to a similar stature to her as well, the two made for a stunning sight. On closer inspection-and really, who could blame him for taking a closer look?-Harry noticed the two witches' figures were not the only thing similar that night, Nym's cheekbones sat higher on her face than usual, features a bit more delicate than she normally sported with high arching brows giving her cerulean blue eyes a smoky seductive quality that matched the veela next to her.

They looked so similar that that could be twins! They _had_ to be fucking with him… Harry struggled to pull himself out of his stupor, eyes unconsciously raking over their luscious figures. Of course there were minute dissimilarities between the pair, Nym's lips were a bit fuller than Fleur's and her hair didn't quite have the ethereal sheen that was prominent in those of veela ancestry. Harry, having spent an immense amount of time with both of them recently could tell them apart quite easily; even without the subtle allure emanating from Fleur, Nym's impish smirk gave her away immediately.

"I think we broke him, Aphrodite," said Tonks, sauntering over to where Harry was still reclined taking in the view.

"Oh dear, per'aps we'll 'ave to leave wiz'out him Nym," Fleur shot back covering her mouth in faux disappointment, "and we spent so long dressing up for him." She pouted, long legs carrying her across the room behind Nym.

"Can you really blame me, ladies?" Harry smiled, rising from his seat, "When such a vision of perfection enters the room it's only right that I give my undivided attention."

The past weeks had been very educational for Harry having to deal with both witches heavily flirtatious nature, and he was finally becoming comfortable giving as good as he got. Harry met Fleur in a heated kiss, wrapping a hand around her slim waist to pull her closer.

He pulled away after a moment, "You both look beautiful," he said more sincerely, turning to Tonks as well. The metamorph leaned in for what Harry assumed was a peck on the cheek, but was surprised when she cupped his jaw and gave him an absolutely mind-blowing kiss that left him wide eyed and panting. Wait _…What!?_

"You're not lookin' too bad yourself loverboy." Nym drawled, trailing a finger down his jaw as they parted once more.

This time Harry was _actually_ rendered speechless, looking between the two witches for an explanation. There was apparently none to be had as Fleur merely gave him a radiant smile before hooking her arm in Nym's and gliding towards the doorway. What the fuck had _happened_ in that bedroom!?

"Are you coming, _'Arry?_ "

Heaving a sigh, he gave a mental shrug before following the two beauties out the door, content to let things play out as long as they were both happy.

oooOoOoOooo

Three figures popped into existence at an apparition point on a well-lit street corner. Harry, having not only learned to apparate in the preceding weeks, but also to track and follow someone else's warp to their destination, arrived at the point unharmed. The skill was surprisingly easy to pick up for the young wizard, not to mention incredibly useful, though he did not utilize the method employed by the ministry instructors. In this case, Fleur's method of motivation worked wonders for him; catching a half nude veela apperating to different rooms of their apartment was _much_ better incentive than a hoop after all.

Harry took in his surroundings, noting that that the street lacked the cobblestone pavement and old world feel that was prevalent in locations like Diagon Alley or Hogsmead. The majority of the buildings actually looked modern, well… modern for the Wizarding world at least. He voiced his thoughts to his two companions out of curiosity.

" _Oui,_ 'Arry, 'zis is what 'ze magical world looks like outside of 'ze British Isles. 'Ze magical world is much more developed and modern in other countries, 'zough it seems not _all_ of 'ze British 'ave lost 'zere sense of style," Fleur said jokingly, obviously enjoying jibing him about his country. He pinched her lightly on the bum as he brushed by earning a squeal from the veela and a snort from Nym at her reaction.

"You were asking for that one, hun, though asking him to resist that ass of yours in the first place is practically criminal," Tonks commented with a wink. By this point they had arrived at their destination and as was tradition when introducing a new location to her friends, Tonks went over the top with the dramatics. " _Welcome_ … to Felicis! In the lovely alcove of Vertíc Alley, located a mere twenty miles south of—"

"Tonks… uh… could we maybe move it along a bit faster?" Harry had a bit of trouble keeping a straight face at the outrage displayed on the metamorph's face at having her introduction interrupted. His occlumency wasn't _that_ good after all.

" _Fine,_ ruin my fun," Tonks pouted, "This place and some of these other shops started popping up a couple years after the end of the first war," she started, giving them the rundown on the area. "Once people stopped fearing for their lives for showing a hint of integration with muggle culture the concept of a nightclub for magicals didn't seem so bad anymore. Not that the pureblood bureaucrats on the Wizengamot don't despise this place," she finished smiling fondly and the building in front of her.

The entrance of the building was fairly nondescript considering what was said to be behind it. The storefront was no taller and no wider than the shops surrounding it, though the architecture of the structure was stylish and well-kept, the only thing indicating the location of the club, was the looping iridescence golden lettering spelling out _Felicis_ slanting along the top left corner of the building. That, and the queue of witches and wizards gathered by the entrance of course.

"Cmon, loverboy, time to put on a show," Tonks smirked as she hooked an arm around Harry's own leading him past the line towards the entrance. Fleur flanked his other side, knowing grin indicating she was at least somewhat aware of what the devilish metamorph was up to.

"Ah… don't we have to wait in line?" He murmured to the two blondes practically dragging him along. He was surprised that those who had obviously been waiting in line for a while didn't protest his group's blantant jump to the front. Having been extremely underprivileged for the majority of his life he was unaware of the effect his current appearance had on others. While the status of the Boy-Who-Lived gave him a certain notoriety in the wizarding world, the fame tended to hurt as much as it was beneficial to him. However, his scar having long since faded to a pale mark, his recent growth spurt and slightly tamed hair, not to mention his slightly unnerving silver-ringed verdant eyes, left a Harry Potter that was hardly comparable to the boy that was so well known by the wizarding community.

At first he had thought the girls would be using his name to gain VIP access to the club, and though he did not mind doing so for them, he would rather avoid using his name for such a mundane purpose, hopefully avoiding coming off as pretentious. It turned out his worries were for naught, for as he strode towards the bouncer guarding the door, it was not the fame of the Boy-Who-Lived who gained him entrance, but the attitude and demeanor befitting a celebrity, and the sleek clothes and aristocratic appearance to match. The twin buxom witches on his arm may have added to the appeal of giving Harry entrance to Felicis; the guard was practically drooling over the two women, waving them through without a second thought.

Harry was a bit uncomfortable using the girls like that, but it _was_ their idea in the first place, and the glimmer in Fleur's eyes gave him the impression that she was amused by her power over the weaker-willed wizards of the world. He simply raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend in askance to which she only pursed her lips in faux innocence, pulling off the adorable look quite well, despite the absolutely _sinful_ black dress she wore. He shook his head in fond exasperation as the trio strode confidently through the entrance, turning to Nym, hoping for some kind of explanation.

"Don't look at _us,_ hun," she said cheekily. "Not to brag, but letting in the prettiest girls is pretty much an unspoken rule even in muggle clubs, no need to refuse an unplanned perk of your current company." She said matter-of-factly, leaning toward him slightly giving him an enticing view down her dress. Despite the blood-red dress not being her usual style, she clearly still knew how to work it to her advantage, he couldn't quite bring himself the blame the guard at the door for his weakness.

The long hall that protruded from the entrance to the building led to a space significantly wider than the outside appearance would have one believe, as was the tendency of most magical structures. Harry could see the influence from muggle dance clubs in the dim lighting with neon accents along the walls as well as the pulsing bass of non-magical music, but to his joy the place lacked the aura of sweat and desperation that was stereotypical of the few clubs he had seen on TV.

Despite the obvious influences, the building was very obviously a product of magic. The faint smoking clouds of glowing fumes that drifted leisurely above the heads of the various patrons gave off a nearly irresistible combination of scents, some of which he recognized. Harry had read that Amortentia had similar effects on anyone who smelt the powerful potion, so promptly covered his nose. Who knows what inhaling the fumes of the potion could do to someone.

Noticing his actions Fleur reached over and lightly pulled his hand away from his mouth with a slight smile. "Wise, but unnecessary 'Arry, it is only 'Dreamer's Delight.' It 'as a mild euphoric effect on 'ze mind, no more." She kissed him on the cheek lightly, leading him and Nym over to one of the luxurious booths that lined the space around the crowded dance floor, dancing around a floating platter of drinks that was heading to another table.

Upon entering the black leather booth, the thrumming beat of the music was muted slightly, indicating the tables were warded with an area-of-effect sound dampening enchantment, giving the guests a place to talk with a bit more privacy.

Fleur slipped into the both gesturing for Harry to follow her with a single finger; he was all too happy to oblige the seductive veela, sliding in leaving no space between them. Nym followed shortly, situating herself a similar distance from him and resteing a hand teasingly on his thigh. She began to lean towards him slowly, rosy lips parted slightly, but Harry felt that clarifying this situation he found himself in would be the best choice going forward.

"Wait," he said softly, halting Nym's advance with a soft hand caressing her shoulder, "before we go any further am I going to get a straightforward explanation for what's going on here? He said cocking an eyebrow at the pair. He didn't miss the look that passed between the two girls flanking him. Fleur seemed to nod at Tonks as if to say 'go ahead.'

"Harry I just… I'm tired of waiting. I'm attracted to you… _both_ of you," she said with a grin over his shoulder. "Why don't we… try this thing out?" she finished slightly awkwardly.

He sighed fondly, "I guess wasn't very subtle either, huh?" he said with a wry look at both of them. He turned to the witch to his right, "You're sure you're ok with this, Fleur? I mean you _are_ my first relationship, I know it's considered normal in your culture, but you're sure _you_ personally are ok with this?" He said, sending a concerned look to the natural blonde.

"'Arry," she started sighing fondly at his chivalrous nature, "I practically jumped Nym when she was changing earlier, I 'zink that was a good indication 'zat I'm ok with 'zis, _more_ 'zan ok actually." Harry raised an eyebrow this fact, wondering not for the first time that day, _what_ exactly happened in Fleur's bedroom. He had a feeling that the reality would be better than anything his imagination could come up with.

He was brought out of his fantasies by Fleur's next words. "Remember, 'Arry, this relationship will be polyamourous, you are not simply taking a second "wife" like some of 'ze traditionalists that head multiple houses, we are _both_ welcoming an additional member to _our_ relationship. 'zere is no need for you to feel guilt," she finished succinctly, her accent almost nonexistent in her effort to drive this point home to her lover. Seemingly to prove her point, or perhaps just to drive the young wizard absolutely insane, the blonde dressed in black crawled languidly over Harry's lap to meet her 'twin' in a searing kiss. A kiss which only deepened as the metamorph made her enthusiasm known, snaking a hand down the exposed skin of Fleur's back and cupping her pert rear earning a muffled moan from the veela.

Harry briefly wondered if one of the Aurors had actually domed him with a bonebreaker earlier that day, the young wizard certainly _felt_ like he was in heaven. Enveloped on both sides by warm bodies he felt he could finally die happy, afterlife or not, he was determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

The girls finally parted, pale skin flushed in the heat of the moment and lips swollen from the abuse of the passionate kiss. They turned to the gob smacked young wizard in tandem before Fleur spoke again.

"So… are _you_ ok wiz' 'zis… arrangement, _'Arry_?" She practically purred his name, still breathing heavily from her earlier exertion. Her heavily lidded blue eyes were absolutely alluring in the dim lighting of the room and it took a moment for Harry to regain his coherency.

"It's a good thing none of the Death Eaters are as hot as you, Aphrodite, or we'd be fucked, eh?" Harry snorted at the jibe from Nym not contradicting her in the slightest. Though he knew such a situation would never come to pass, both of the witches at his side were one of a kind after all.

"I'd have to be daft to refuse such an opportunity to be happy," Harry said quietly, finally answering Fleur's query. He slipped an arm around each woman's waist pulling them closer with a smile, which they rewarded with a kiss on either of his cheeks. It seemed that nothing could wipe the grin off his face.

Nym finally broke their content silence, "Well, while we're here, care for something from the potions bar boys and girls?" Harry rolled his eyes at her lack of regard for the drinking age, not that he could say much having snuck in in the first place. Not waiting for an answer the spastic witch trailed her wand down the drink menu engraved on their table peering at the various concoctions they offered. He glanced at Fleur, smiling at their mutual lover's antics. Tonks seemed to finally decide on something to order, channeling a bit of magic into the rune next to each label which would record the order as well as the magical signature of the wand used to order it and assigning it a tab. Harry and Tonks couldn't help but laugh uproariously when they caught Fleur trying to surreptitiously reverse engineer the menu enchantment with subtle flicks of her wand under the table. It seemed that even when out for fun the witch couldn't resist her inquisitive nature. The sight of Fleur's pout was almost worth the flick to the ear they had both received from the embarrassed blonde.

It was minutes later when a floating tray interrupted the trio's comradery, bringing with it three crystal goblets, two of which contained a steaming liquid with a hue that shifted between multiple colors. Within seconds the drink had shifted from something as dark as a royal purple to a hue as light as sunshine. The opaque, almost vapory consistency of the drink gave it the appearance of liquid fire. The third goblet was filled the brim with a clear liquid with a pale blue tint that was as unnaturally still as the other two drinks were tumultuous and chaotic.

Harry leaned forward, bringing his eyes level with the strange liquid having never seen something like it before. The only alchoholic beverages that Harry was familiar with from the wizarding world were Firewhiskey and Butterbeer, and something told him that the elixir's in front of him would dwarf the effects of those two. Even if Tonks hadn't called the service a 'potions bar' moments before, one could tell that the drinks were magical in nature just from their obvious unnatural qualities.

Tonks levitated one of the two iridescent shifting goblets letting it settle in front of Harry, taking the second one for herself, while Fleur, taking the hint, floated the third goblet containing the clear liquid over to herself, inspecting the unmoving surface with a keen eye.

"It's called Mage's inferno, in case you were wondering," Tonks murmured from his left side, "drinks from potions bars are still slightly alchoholic, but the true reason to have em' is for the magical effects," she said, grinning in anticipation.

"What about 'zis one, Nym? I assume 'zere is a reason you ordered me some'zing different, _non?"_

Tonks nodded in confirmation to Fleur's second question, "Cassandra's Clarity," she responded, giving the name of the pale blue elixir, "it will temporarily bolster mental clarity as well as the sensitivity of all five of your senses. I've been told that it's like seeing the world in color for the first time after living in black and white." Tonks' description of the potion's effects shocked her two companions momentarily before Fleur recovered asking another question.

"'Zat seems a bit… dangerous _non?_

"They both are actually," she said, indicating the drinks in front of herself and Harry, "if taken in excess that is. Taken sparingly they are harmless so ah… special occasions only, alright people?" Rubbing the back of her head sheepishly.

"You never said why you got Fleur something different from ours," said Harry, speaking up after inspecting the shifting colors of his own inferno.

"Right… so while a Clarity effects your physical perception of the world, the inferno directly effects your magic, unrestraining it and harnessing it to induce a feeling of chaos and euphoria… well you'll see in a bit why it's better if we keep 'em away from Aphrodite over here." She said smirking at her girlfriend over Harry's shoulder. She clinked her glass with her two companions' before downing the entirety of the chaotic mixture. Harry, following suit let the fluctuating liquid trickle down his throat, noting the bitter, vaguely citrusy flavor, glad that the brew did not follow the trend of the majority of potions he had tasted in his life.

The effect was nearly instantaneous, Harry felt a familiar surge of magic pulsing through his veins as if were attempting to use magic, lighting his nerves on fire, but it was not pain he experienced. The effect was slightly disorienting at first, but once acclimated, the euphoria he felt was only eclipsed by the overwhelming assurance in his sense of self. Unknown to the young wizard, his magic visibly manifesting in an aura around him, green eyes glowing with unrestrained power.

To his right, was Fleur, head thrown back and eyes closed as she slowly inhaled as if to verify the reality of the stimulus from her five senses. Upon opening her beautiful blue eyes and meeting her boyfriend's he noticed how dilated her pupils were, but whether it was a direct result of the elixir or the endorphins from the situation itself was unclear. She smiled blindingly at him giving him a sensual kiss before they both parted. Fleur glanced over his shoulder and stifled a giggle at the sight behind him. Harry turned to see the problem before snorting at the sight of Tonks cycling rapidly through a variety of hairstyles, seemingly without any control over her metamorphmagus abilities. Her eyes were not exempt from this lack of control and were shifting just as rapidly as her hair. Harry and Fleur simultaneously rose an eyebrow at the more subtle changes around Nym's chest, smirking at her fluctuating bust size. It seems the Mage's inferno's chaotic effect on a wizard's magic had unforeseen consequences on Tonks' metamorphic abilities.

Cackling at the humor of the situation, Tonks made a good point, "You can see why we gave Fleur the Clarity, right? An unrestrained and amplified veela aura in a club of young wizards not the best idea, eh?" She screwed up her nose in concentration, having to focus on her abilities significantly harder than usual. Her transformations finally settled down as she gained greater focus. "Better?" she asked, looking at the pair in askance. Harry smirked, tucking a singular lock of neon green hair that clashed with the rest of her silver locks, behind the older witch's ear.

The next hour flew by in a blur for the trio of lovers, enjoying the good company, magical atmosphere, not to mention the _unique_ effects of the recreational potions they had consumed. At one point Nym and Fleur managed to drag Harry out to dance which caused him a brief flash of anxiety, somewhat muted by the effects of the inferno, but being sandwiched between Fleur and Nym in backless cocktail dresses was a far cry from his experience from Yule of the previous year. Fleur's heritage and natural grace made her a positively devilish dancer, whether the music was traditional or modern, her sensual grinding was stirring up all kinds of lecherous feelings within the young wizard. Nym practically stuck to him from behind like a second skin wasn't helping matters much. He and the young metamorph took full advantage of Fleur's heightened sensitivity to touch from the Clarity she had taken, driving the witch insane with constant skin on skin contact. The trio spent the rest of the evening in elation, the thumping bass of the club acting as a motif for their revamped relationship, the additional member enhancing their dynamic even further.

When the sensuality reached a peak, the three could not have left the club faster, apparating straight through the wards of Fleur's home, lucky for their accuracy in their slightly inebriated state. They were barely past the threshold when their lust took over, Nym attacking Harry's lips in a searing kiss, while Fleur sucked teasingly at the crook of his neck leaving the young wizard weak in the knees. But before they could really get going the two witches pulled away gliding across the room to the bedroom before turning with dual flirty smirks, leaving him gazing lustfully at the pair from the doorway. Fleur and Nym peeled their dresses sensuously off over their heads, leaving them in nothing but their skimpy matching underwear, before turning around hips swinging as they entered the bedroom together.

"Bedroom. Now," came the call from inside the room, spurring Harry into action immediately. He stripped off his dress shirt as he strode purposefully towards the bedroom door, nearly tripping over the coffee table as he struggled to get his slacks and belt off while rushing to the bedroom. He turned the corner in time to see Nym practically tackle her girlfriend to the bed, leaving Harry with the sight of the two witches making out vigorously on the luxurious bed. He walked over before flopping down next to them, leaning his head on one propped up elbow content with the erotic sight of the two witches locked in a passionate embrace. The two separated after a moment, smiling sheepishly after they noticed their silent observer.

Nym crawled over the young wizard to his other side, taking her time to brush tauntingly over his pelvis where she could feel his growing excitement before settling draped over the right side of his body. Fleur mirrored her on his left, beginning to trail kisses from his collarbone down his toned torso earning a soft moan from the younger mage. Nym met his lips with a sensual kiss while Fleur continued her gentle ministrations, continuing towards his groin, but the young veela let out a squeak when she felt Harry tease a perky nipple lightly. She hadn't even noticed when he'd removed her bra!

Fleur, who Harry had learned could be extremely sensitive when in the correct mindset, seemed to be even more so, considering the addition participant as well as the magnified senses from the elixir she had taken earlier that evening. A light brush of Harry's dexterous fingers over her core was all that it took to leave the young witch in a state of overwhelming arousal.

Harry continued his blind stroking of Fleur's sensitive breasts, still slightly distracted by Nym's tongue languidly exploring his mouth. Kissing a metamorph was another experience entirely, her tongue able to bend and stretch in ways impossible for normal human beings.

What else she could do with that tongue…

The thought was a product of hormones, the inferno, and his undeniable attraction for the older witch, but he would never actually voice the thought unless she offered in the first place. However, her next words had him doubt the strength of his Occlumency shields.

"Hey, Aphrodite…" Nym gasped in between kisses. A gentle moan acknowledging her attention was all the veela could manage at the moment, lost as she was with Harry ministrations. "You guys haven't gone all the way yet, right?" She smirked knowingly at Harry, "I think I'm gonna give loverboy here a treat first before ya' pop each other's cherries, ya'?

The metamorph, after removing her underwhere, had shifted back into a blue-haired, slightly more petit, yet still fairly curvy body. She slowly trailed her perky c-cup breasts down Harry's torso, approaching his now uncomfortably erect manhood at an agonizingly slow pace. Harry was not by any means massively endowed but was still larger than average and Tonks was eager to please, but not without having a little fun first.

She trailed a finger teasingly around the head of his prick, avoiding applying any pressure at all. "So... Harry, you were having some _interesting_ thoughts a second ago. Care to share with the class?" she asked taunting. By this point Fleur had moved back to sucking teasingly on Harry's neck, driving him crazy with the stimulus on dual fronts. She was _clearly_ enjoying his torture.

Nym spoke again, "I _might_ consider indulging your fantasies, you know, but you're just _so_ noble you'd never ask… _would_ you?" This time she stroked lightly with her entire palm, pausing to tease slightly at his balls.

"Mmm… _please_ ," Harry moaned, the tumultuous magic in his blood begging for release making the experience even more tortuous.

"Please _what,_ Harry, I want to hear you _say_ it," Nym said, no less commanding in her dulcet tones. He felt Fleur's allure spike, enticing the young man to answer the question posed by the twin devils sharing his bed.

"Please suck it Nym, I _need_ it." Harry finally ground out, his own aura flaring in response to his will.

The devious metamorph gave a smug grin before indulging him as promised. She gave his cock a _long_ and tortuously slow lick from base to head, leaving a trail of saliva that served to lubricate the following rhythmic strokes of her soft palm. But that was only the begginning, Harry gave a guttural groan as the witch engulfed the entirety of his seven inches in one go. Her metamorphic abilities allowed his entire cock to fit down her throat yet remained perfectly snug. He'd never felt anything like it before… the sensation of being completely surrounded by wet, scorching hot flesh.

The witch let out an erotic moan, sending euphoric vibrations to his core before meeting his silver-ringed green eyes with her own blue, the only feature left from the form she had taken all night. The smug quirk of her eyebrow she gave him while having his cock stuffed down her throat was nearly his undoing. He had never seen a sexier sight, and resisting his own release at that point was one of the most difficult yet rewarding things he had ever accomplished. Nym slowly pulled her pouty lips back up the length of his member, leaving a trail of saliva on his shaft, before pausing with only the tip in her mouth. She gently gave several short strokes with her tongue before removing her mouth completely, stroking slightly with her palm and teasing his balls again with her tongue.

Nym shot him a cocky lopsided smirk.

Fleur moved to start making out with him, having recovered slightly from going out commission earlier, which blocked his view of Tonks once more going to town on his now throbbing erection. Not being able to see it however did _not_ block out the feeling of her once again wrapping her lips around his head, but he was caught off guard by the sensation of an inhumanly long tongue snaking around his shaft several times, completely overstimulating his cock and sending him racing over the edge. Harry let out a shout, muffled, as he was still lip-locked with Fleur who was smirking at his helplessness. He emptied several _long_ spurts of cum into Nym's talented mouth, the metamorph continuing the suction unrelentingly all the way through his powerful orgasm.

Seeing he'd finally popped, the blue-haired witch removed her lips from his head with a sharp _pop_ before swallowing the load with an audible gulp. Tonks sat back on her haunches, satisfied with a job well done, smiling at the blissed out expression on her boyfriend's face.

"Ugh… _wow,_ " Harry said as he inhaled deeply, still recovering from the overwhelming sensations of Nym's blowjob, " _that,_ was amazing."

"I know right," she responded smiling, "I _think_ he's all ready when you are Aphrodite," she said to the other witch, flicking his still-erect member lightly watching it bob with no indication of getting softer any time soon. Whether that was due to the inferno still coursing through his veins, Fleur's allure, the sheer sexuality of the situation or any combination of the three was unknown to the trio, but none of them were about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It seemed that Fleur was equally as ready to go considering the speed at which she swung a leg over Harry's hips, straddling his abs. For a moment she just sat perched on her man staring intently into his eyes. As a veela, claiming her mate in this way was incredibly significant, and Harry, having spent a good deal of time around the witch, could infer this, so he gave her the time she needed.

"You're sure about this Fleur?" He asked, stroking his hand languidly along her creamy thigh.

" _Oui,_ 'Arry, I've never been more sure about some'zing in my life," she answered, before gaining a more predatory smirk, "But are _you_ ready for 'zis, my love?" she queried, grabbing ahold of his member which had settled between her perfect heart-shaped ass cheeks. She raised herself up slightly with her toned legs, while directing his cock into her virgin lips, before lowering herself at a gradual yet confident pace. Veela, being sexual creatures at heart, did not experience much pain upon losing their virginity, yet it still took Fleur a moment to acclimate herself to having something of his girth inside of her once she had reached the base.

Harry found the sight inhumanly beautiful, his girlfriend while perched on his hips, head thrown back in pleasure looked like a gift from magic itself. She gazed at him with hooded eyes as she began to sensuously undulate her hips, initially setting a languid pace for their lovemaking. Harry latched his lips onto her left nipple causing her to let out a hiss of pleasure while he palmed an ass cheek in each hand, helping her grind onto his cock with the optimal amount of friction. He found everything about Fleur to be beautiful, but he had always appreciated what a particularly fantastic ass she had, and took every opportunity he had now to squeeze the nubile flesh while the couple gained even more fervor in their carnal rutting.

Fleur leaned forward, bracing herself on Harry's chest to gain more leverage as she bounced enthusiastically on his prick. The slapping of flesh on flesh along with the erotic cries filled the room as they frantically lost themselves in their passionate coupling. Nym sat on, voyeuristically enjoying the display by her mutual lovers while fingering herself, well on the way to her own climax.

She was not the only one it seemed as Harry and Fleur gained even more intensity, the latter's nails now leaving red scratches in the young wizard's chest as she approached release.

"Just a bit more 'Arry!" she cried, getting off on having such a powerful wizard beneath her, even more so because the love of her life trusted her enough to submit control to her in such an intimate moment. Harry was just as close, regulating his breathing in order to stave off his release long enough to take Fleur over the edge.

Still being affected by the elixir from before caused Fleur's release to be more powerful than any she had ever experienced, and when Harry finally emptied himself for the second time that night, she keened in ecstasy both from the heightened stimulus, and from the satisfaction finally claiming her mate after all this time.

Harry dragged Nym over to them to cuddle, seeing that she had found her own release. He felt a bit bad having left her to her own devices, but her next words settled his guilt. "I got your number tomorrow, Loverboy, I don't know about you, but I'm knackered," she sighed in exhaustion.

Harry and Fleur promptly agreed, and he tossed a sheet over the three of them as they settled comfortably in for the night. The summer was not nearly over yet, and he had countless objectives still to complete, but for the time being Harry Potter's life was seemingly perfect.


	17. Chapter 17

**Revised: 7/8/2019**

 **AN: Hey guys! Been a while, but you'll be happy to note that my revision of the early chapters are finished and we should be back to weekly-ish updates. I've also taken the time to plan where I'm taking the story so I don't write myself into a corner. Like I said I would, I've compiled a brief summary of changes that might affect the plot in any way organized by chapter. In my opinion the changes are not significant enough to reread the whole story, but that's obviously up to you.**

Changes to note in the revised earlier chapters:

All chapters- Tweaks to dialogue to make it read more smoothly

Chapter 1- Slight changes in Harry's fight with Voldemort to make it more obvious that he's just toying with Harry. Looking back on it Harry's current ability seems too strong in comparison to Voldemort's showing in the first chapter, but I don't think Harry's progress is unrealistic, just Voldemort's ability was misrepresented in that first chapter, that is now fixed for the most part.

Chapter 2- Changes in his conversation with Ron and Hermione. Their reactions to his studying more questionable magic now reflect their personalities better, Ron's upbringing gives him a bias towards 'dark magic' and he makes that clear (hopefully without it coming off as character bashing cus' I hate that shit) while Hermione is curious about his arguments but whose trust in authority figures makes her hesitant to help him anyway. This causes very little difference to the direction of the plot but is a lot more believable in my opinion.

Chapter 3- Minor changes, less emphasis on learning the bludgeoning charm, plus added subtle hints at Harry's aptitude with his spacial manipulation charms.

Chapter 4- Minor phrasing changes.

Chapter 5-Slight change to the mechanics of the trace, mentioned that it was designed for underage wizards to be taught during summer as having another of-age magical within range of the trace voids any counts of underage magic, promoting supervision of magic during the summer. Overall no change to the effect or the way it can be abused, just clarifying the reasoning. Other than that, slight phrasing changes.

Chapter 6-Slight changes to wording, I really like this chapter after rereading it "], no major changes.

Chapter 7- Clarified that Dumbledore being Harry's 'Magical Guardian' is complete fanon when in canon the only thing specified is that he influenced the placement of Harry with his relatives, whether this was done legally is up for debate but in this particular situation changes nothing. At this point in ABE Harry could possibly have a case for early emancipation, but with his current reputation with the ministry they would fight him tooth and nail, not worth the effort in the long run, but as you know, (since you have already made it to chapter 17) this ends up not actually mattering at all cus' Harry just says 'fuck it, movin' in with the veela girlfriend and equally hot best friend (at that point). Granted, living in another residence without legally being independent is a plot hole. But I'm _leaving it_ _in._ Sue me! Also, phrasing changes.

Chapter Ocho-Just phrasing

Chapter 9-In retrospect having Fleur talk about polyamory minutes after meeting Tonks seemed a bit contrived, but changing it now would alter the dynamic the trio have had from this chapter onwards and would require rewriting a ton of scenes which I'm simply not willing to do at this point. Besides, the trio's relationship ended up progressing at a believable rate even with this mistake I made. Something to take away for my next story anyway. That being said, this chapter is remaining relatively unchanged.

Chapter 10-16 Minor changes/Wording

 **AN: With that out of the way enjoy the chapter.**

 **PS: This is not intended to be a smutfic but at this point in the story it is in my opinion important to both having a believable narrative and staying true to the characters. The lemons will probably appear less often as the plot progresses but sex is quite natural in any relationship and this story reflects that. I enjoy lemons in the stories I read and have grown to like writing them almost as much. I won't put a warning in from this point on. :]**

It was the shifting of bodies that first roused Harry from some of the best sleep of his life. Bleary green eyes peered through the pale blue tresses obscuring his vision. Apparently, he and his lovers had shifted during the night, leaving Fleur spooned to his side and Nym sprawled sideways across both. Harry smiled at the dorky grin spread across the blue haired witch's face and the small line of drool that trailed from her lips as she dozed lightly. The body he had felt shifting earlier was the witch who had been spooning to his side, sometimes having to rise much earlier than the other two occupants of the bed for her job with Gringotts. Harry smirked lazily, tightening his hold around her waist as Fleur wiggled around attempting to extricate herself from the mass of limbs.

"'Arry!" she laughed lightly, "I 'ave to get ready." The veela's nude body shone in the early morning light streaming through the blinds as she finally extricated herself from Harry's clutches, standing proudly before she bent down to kiss him lightly on the lips, her crouched position doing wonderful things to her naked breasts. "Go back to bed, 'Arry 'zere is no need for you to wake up yet. I will be back before you know it _mon amour."_ She turned to briefly peck Nym on the lips as well before turning to stride into the adjacent bathroom, pert bottom wiggling enticingly as she disappeared behind the door.

Harry began to relax once again as he heard the shower start to run, tightening his hold on the second witch in his bed, sprawled horizontally over his bare torso. The smaller witch adorably snuggled closer to his body heat. The entirely innocent sight was almost enough to make the young wizard forget the absolutely _sinful_ things this witch had done to him the previous night.

 _Almost._

The memories of said night in addition to Fleur's earlier teasing was only making his morning 'issue' even worse. Harry's ridged member throbbed with tension, now uncomfortably trapped between Nym's toned midriff and his own body. That unfortunately left Harry rock-hard with one witch in the shower getting ready to leave for the day, and another fast asleep with little chance of waking up anytime soon.

Just think about something else and it'll go away, Harry mused, attempting to distract himself.

It wasn't working.

The conjured images of boring lectures given by Professor Binns served to distract him momentarily, but when Nym began squirming closer in her sleep, causing the conjured image of the old ghost to fade into Fleur and Nym trying to _teach him a lesson_ after class. The technique was abandoned as a lost cause.

Harry unconsciously bucked his hips attempting to get[TK1] _some_ kind of friction going, but the result was entirely dissatisfying from his and Nym's awkward positioning. Harry was just about to give up and get out of bed when he felt Nym's body shift slightly before a hand closed snugly around his pulsing shaft.

"This for me, wonderboy?" a mischievious tone still coming through the witch's sleep-addled speech. Harry merely let out a soft groan from finally getting some relief as he tightened his hold around the petite witch's waist, fisting the loose sheets with his other hand. Nym stroked his prick languidly taking her time to tease him even further, but Harry had been worked up for hours, being surrounded by two beautiful women all night, and was _not_ in the mood for slow lovemaking. With a soft growl he flipped his lover over, ignoring the half squeak have giggle that left her lips, leaving her face down on the mattress, his limbs caging her in. Harry attacked the side of her neck, while palming a breast from behind and stroking a finger from the other around her lower lips teasingly. The less experienced wizard suddenly being so aggressive clearly took the young metamorph by surprise, but the witch arching her back giving his roaming fingers better access encouraged him to keep going. Nym's tight quim glistened with the evidence of her arousal further supported by the young witch squirming away as her lover hit a particularly sensitive point. Harry's erection throbbed at the sight of the powerful witch on her hands and knees, her perky ass displayed, practically _begging_ for his cock, but it wasn't until Nym's quiet, "Gods Harry, just put it in!" that Harry's trance was broken.

He lined up his head with her dripping pussy, supremely turned on by the submission shown by the normally proud Auror. The sight of his dick slipping slowly into her crevice was nearly enough to make him cum on the spot, and her slowly moaned, "fuuuck _meeee_ ," as she inched downwards _really_ didn't help matters either. It was only through sheer force of will and his most practical application of Occlumency to date that staved off his impending orgasm. Harry slowly stuffed his cock into the fit young witch's depths, burying himself the hilt while successfully staving off his own release for a few more moments.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, he exhaled slowly pulling out again. Harry hissed, not sure if the the ripples in Nym's slick cavern were natural or a product of that wonderful ability of hers, but either way it felt _incredible_. With only the tip of his cock left inside, he sharply buried himself all the way once more, his hips meeting the soft flesh of her ass with an erotic slap.

Nym let out an encouraging cry as her creamy skin rippled enticingly. The motion was repeated a few times as Harry palmed the soft flesh of her tight ass for greater leverage, building up a quick rhythm, unable to resist squeezing a bit more firmly, leaving a soft imprint of his hands on the older witch's bum. The tightening of her quim around his rod give him the impression that she didn't mind the slightly rougher play as did the quite vocal squeals and curses leaving her mouth.

"Is that all you got, Wonderboy? C'mon fuck me like you mean it!" the blue haired witch managed through labored breathing. Harry promptly spanked her sharply on her reddening bum in response, smirking at the squeal of both pleasure and pain that left her mouth. Despite his lover's words Harry was well aware that she was getting off on this as much as he was.

Harry, finding his rhythm started roughly pounding away at the witch bent over in front of him, both lovers feeling a sense of urgency, both having been worked up since the previous night. The tension built up since Nym went down on him was finally released as he gripped tightly at her hips grinding forcefully into the devilish metamorph, the slapping of sweaty flesh a backdrop to their animalistic rutting. Nym seemed to read his mind as she morphed slightly curvier hips giving him more flesh to grab onto as he hammered away chasing their mutual release. Nym growing her body to suit his whims was never something he would ask her to do, but the thought of her indulging him without even having to ask broke his concentration completely, bringing on the inevitable. He thrusted thrice before burying himself one final time as his cock _pulsed_ inside Nym's depths, the feeling of Harry's ejaculation apparently sending Nym over the edge as well. The witch keened in ecstasy, seeming to have needed the quick shag as much as he had himself.

Harry collapsed over Nym's back, skin slick with sweat from their exertions, he groaned into her ear in satisfaction, "now _that's_ what I call a wakeup call,"

"Anytime, wonderboy," came her mumbled response, both content to drift back off to sleep, both having finally let off the tension that had been building for so long. It was just as the pair drifted off to sleep that a smirking Fleur walked out from the bathroom, dressed and ready for work. She glanced at the messed up bedsheets and sweaty spooning bodies coming to the obvious conclusion.

"Could not even wait until I left 'ze shower," she giggled, "Well, try not to break him, or anything else in 'ze 'ouse while I'm gone Nym." The incoherent mumble for the sleepy metamorph was entirely expected as the blonde veela walked out the door and promptly disapperated.

oooOoOoOooo

Harry snorted, unconsciously trying to clear the stray strand of hair that had fallen into his face over the previous few hours, but it was persistent in its attempt to rouse him from the land of Morpheus. Feeling the tickling sensation once more, Harry inwardly surrendered to the fact that he would have to get up for the day, flicking his eyelids open in resignation.

He was met with the sight of two eyes staring into his own, a heterochromatic combination of his own emerald green and a cerulean blue that he would recognize anywhere. He smiled in recognition of Nym's small sign of affection to her two lovers. Nym matched his grin as she gazed down from where she lay atop his chest, her hair curtained in loose curls around his own face leaving them in their own little world for a brief moment. Harry silently raised a hand to pinch a lock between his thumb and forefinger, admiring the rich auburn color that he had never seen her wear before.

"I love this color on you, Nym," he murmured, secretly hoping she would use it more often. The witch's only reaction was to press a kiss quickly to his lips before scooting down his torso allowing her to rest her head on his chest. Harry smiled at her silent plea for comfort, basking in Nym's soft embrace.

"Was…was it good for you?"

Harry's cheeks flamed as he registered what had just come out of his mouth, having not even consciously decided to ask the question in the first place.

He waited for Tonks to crack a joke and laugh with him like she normally would, but was surprised when she only clutched him tighter. The young metamorph was so acclimated to his integrity and wit that belied his age that she sometimes forgot he was still a young man on the cusp of adulthood, inexperience with such things.

"Harry," she started, rolling over to flop down next to him companionably, reminiscent of how they used to sit together when they first met. Harry's glowed at the reminder that just because she was his lover now didn't mean she wasn't his friend and confident as well. "Harry, I _love_ what you do to me, _trust_ me. _That_ will never come into question," she said as emphatically as possible, an easy feat as there was no hyperbole in her words, the man was a natural if she'd ever seen one. "Although, there's _always_ room for improvement," she started, her lips quirking mischeiviously, "and you know what that means right?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow as if to say ' _you tell me.'_

" _Practice."_

He couldn't help but grin at the prospect of practicing _that_ particular skill. Harry pulled her closer, nuzzling Nym's chaotic mass of curls. He inhaled deeply noting, for the first time, the scent of apples and cinnamon that filled his nostrils.

He moaned at the enticing aroma. " _Merlin,_ Nym, what _is_ that!?"

She cackled outright at his reaction, "I _knew_ it! It's irresistible right?" she asked excitedly, eyes wide in anticipation.

"Well, what is?" Harry asked, having finally broken out of the trance and was peering curiously at his companion.

"It comes with the hairdo babe," she snickered, and upon looking at the big picture, the unique auburn color did fit with the whole theme quite well. Harry smiled indulgently at his lover's antics, but was inwardly amazed at the wide range of control Nym had over her metamorphic abilities. He was less than knowledgeable on the aspects of Biology that concerned the smells given off by the human body, but being able to control it with a thought obviously took an absurd amount of skill.

As he went back to playing with the shiny strands of his girlfriend's hair he couldn't help but think there was something incredibly relevant that he had forgotten in his whirlwind of a life. He trailed his deft fingertips slowly up the strand until he reached her scalp and he froze, eyes widening as he _finally_ remembered what had slipped his mind.

"Nym!"

"Ow! _Fuck_ that hurt," she cried, rubbing her head where the hair had been yanked out when she had suddenly sat up.

"Shit. Sorry Nym," said Harry, looking concerned.

She eyed him warily before mumbling, "s'fine, why'd you scream like a girl?" he rolled his eyes at the jab but was too excited to take it seriously.

"You said you can't grow your hair right!" Harry asked in a rush.

"Of _course_ I can, you've seen me do it a million times," the witch said airily, growing back the single strand of hair to prove her point.

Harry sighed in exasperation, "No not 'you' as in _you_ I mean 'you' as in magicals in general," he clarified. "When we first met and you were telling Fleur and me about metamorphs, you said wizards and witches couldn't grow their hair with a spell right? That's why the witches at school drop galleons on hair care potions?"

"To be fair, I bet the wizards are using just as much," she shot back. Harry had to concede her point but was unwilling to drop his original question. Tonks seemed to think back on the conversation she had had what seemed like months ago but in reality was merely a few weeks. "Yeah, that's right," she said, remembering that point in the conversation. If it was possible Harry's countenance grew even more eager.

"But _I did."_

 _A pause._

"You did what?" perhaps she had misunderstood, it sounded like he'd said-"

" _I did_ grow my hair!" he repeated, enthused at the implications while Tonks was still wrapping her head around it. "Only once," he amended. "My Aunt Petunia you see, when I was younger, she shaved off most of my hair leaving these awful, lopsided bangs to cover my 'freakish scar," he explained, using air quotes appropriately. "When I woke up the next morning it was all grown back."

"You never told anyone?" Nym finally asked, still somewhat mystified at the turn of events.

"No. Ya' see, at the time I was just trying to keep my head down, avoiding being punished for anything strange that happened around me. The Dursley's opinion on magic hasn't changed over the years, just my ability to get away," He explained airily, missing the dark look that passed over Nym's features at the mention of his abuse. "When I finally got my Hogwarts letter, I just lumped all the strange occurrences of my childhood together as accidental magic. Granted, the exact same thing happened when I discovered that I _wasn't_ supposed to talk to snakes," he mused. "Say, Nym, is apperating as a kid normal?"

"…"

"Right… so I'm gonna' take that as a _no_?"

Tonks breathed out a long sigh as she organized her thoughts. "Harry, lets ignore your absurd feats of magic as a child for a moment here, are you sure you grew your own hair?"

A nod.

"And you've never manifested any another metamorphic powers since then?" Her voice was calm but had an eager undertone, obviously enthused at the prospect of finding another of her kind.

"No, though I've never really needed a hairrr…cut. Huh, I just now realized how strange that is…" Harry said sheepishly.

Tonks however was lost in thought. "Hmm, maybe it's repressed by the encounter where it first manifested, you implied you were uh… punished for it?"

Harry nodded mutely.

"Then that's probably it then. The trauma from the incident itself repressed the ability subconsciously," she continued, thinking out loud, "But how to free it…"

The pair were now seated on the bed face to face as Tonks contemplated solutions to the issue at hand, "Just so you don't get your hopes up, Harry, I doubt you have a full range of metamorphic abilities even if we _do_ end up unblocking them. From what you described, you may be capable of cosmetic changes, but my mum always said I was shifting minutes after I was born, the most visible sign of a complete metamorph." She said, smiling nostalgically. Harry nodded, and took her hand letting her know that he would be happy sharing even a small part of her passion with her.

"So, what do we do?" Harry's silver ringed irises met her own mismatched ones, matching determination in each.

She smiled, "Alright I have an idea. First you need to meditate as you would for your normal Occlumency exercises.

"Ok, but first… you gotta' put a shirt on, babe, there'll be no meditating going on with those puppies out," Harry said, eyeing her bare chest.

"You sure that's what you want Wonderboy?" Nym purred with hooded eyes. Harry raised an eyebrow as her perky c-cups grew slightly, just enough to draw the eye.

"Alright, if you insist," she sighed dramatically. The witch snickered at his reaction before hopping off the bed and donning a white button-up shirt from Harry's own wardrobe which in his opinion didn't really detract from the distraction, but he would do his best to remain focused.

"Alright, Wonderboy, get to it." She said, skipping back to the bed sitting cross legged in front of him once more.

Harry closed his eyes, letting his mind slip into the meditative state required for the initial Occlumency exercises. The process took mere moments after having to have that kind of focus while casting over the previous weeks.

"Metamorphmagi are in a constantly changing frame of mind," Nym said. "You must try to separate yourself from your own perception of your appearance. We are born with that frame of mind, but yours was sealed away by the trauma."

Harry imagined himself in a sort of limbo, unable to move or feel anything from his five senses. He tried Nym's instructions, but for such an abstract concept it was difficult to put into practice. His concentration was broken when he felt Nym embrace him from behind, her curly hair tickling the back of his neck.

"You're quite sensitive to magic, Harry," she murmured into his ear. "Try to remember how it feels when I morph.

Though his eyes were still closed, he could still feel the slight shift in Nym's magic, as chaotic and malleable as the witch it belonged to. He _pulled_ on his own well of power, attempting to shape it to the same ever-changing rhythm of Nym's own aura. The flowing power he was moulding flickered, as if resisting the change in form. He could picture the change that needed to occur but for the first time in a while, his own magic was not compliant with its owner's will.

He exhaled, tugging more urgently on his magic feeling it _shiver_ in agitation, until finally, all the resistance fell away letting the internal force start fluctuating naturally. Harry let his eyes drift slowly open. Despite his respectable magical reserves, a product of the high resistance spacial manipulation he had been drilling lately, one could still exhaust themselves through extensive use of magical mental disciplines. This was the case here as he panted, surprised at how tired such a short attempt made him.

Nym nipped at his neck before holding a conjured mirror in front of both of them. Harry peered into the reflective surface, feeling and seeing the witch rest her chin on his shoulder with a wide grin on her face. Nym's heterochromatic eyes were not focused on her own reflection but on his. He followed her gaze, finally noticing the bright streak of white hair that cut through his bangs, a striking contrast to his pitch-black natural hair color, though since this proved that he could manifest partial metamorphic abilities, he supposed he really _had_ no natural hair color.

"It looks like you're a man of many talents, Mr. Potter," Nym smiled reaching up to fondle the single lock of white hair in admiration. "Do it again, it shouldn't be as hard the second time since you had to work through a mental block."

"Can you let me feel the shift again?" Harry asked, getting a nod as his lover moved into position behind him. "You might need to shift you breast size this time… you know, so I can match how it feels with different parts of the body."

"Riiight cus' you've got your own to worry about, right?" she snickered back at him, ruining the stoic face he had tried to keep as he snorted in response. Harry was about shoot a sarcastic comment back at her when he felt two increasingly pillowy masses squish against his back. "You were saying Harry?"

"All in the name of science," he murmured in response, silently thanking merlin for the evidence that karma was real.

"Alright, Harry, focus, try again," Nym said seriously.

He closed his eyes, centering himself once more…

oooOoOoOooo

It was to a quiet house that Fleur came home to, not all that surprising had she been living alone, but that was obviously not the case, having shared an apartment and a bed with Harry for the past few weeks. Considering the state that the veela left her two lovers that morning, she was expecting a bit more _activity_ when returning home for the day. However, the scene she came upon when entering her shared bedroom was definitely more wholesome than she had been expecting.

Harry was sprawled out, fast asleep on their bed with his head in their third lover's lap as she languidly stroked his messy head of hair smiling fondly down at the young man. Though on closer inspection her partner's hair was not the pitch black she had become so used to, but a shade of silver, significantly darker than her own but looking equally strange on her lover. Fleur met her girlfriend's eyes across the room, a smile and a quirk of a perfectly shaped eyebrow in askance of the change to their mutual boyfriend.

"It seems Loverboy here was holding out on us, babe," Nym whispered gently, not wanting to wake the young wizard up.

"'Ze hair?

"Partial metamorph," Nym gushed, a wide grin splitting her face unable to contain her excitement entirely. "Who'da thunk, right? Apparently, he grew his hair out as a kid and you can guess how well that went, with those fuckers he was living with," she babbled, lost in thought. Fleur glided across the room to settle down next to her girlfriend, pecking her on the cheek.

"So you tested 'im, _non?_ I supposed 'ze hair makes it obvious 'zough," Fleur mused, "what are his limits?"

"He had a mental block preventing his use of the ability," Nym explained. "That's why he's so exhausted right now," she added as an afterthought. Fleur nodded listening to Nym go on, "I think he'll be capable of most superficial morphs after he practices a bit, as you can see we managed a full hue shift in the few hours we practiced today," she continued, brushing his silver hair idily.

"Oh? I 'ave been gone since 'ze morning, what were you doing for 'ze rest of 'ze time?" The coquettish look she gave the smaller metamorph indicated she knew _exactly_ what they were doing, but she couldn't help giving her lover a hard time.

"Oh gimme' a break Aphrodite! It's been _so_ long since I've gotten some, can you blame me?" she whispered heatedly

"I can understand 'ze first time, and maybe 'ze second, but 'ze kitchen Nym? _really?"_

She looked appropriately chagrined at the last bit. "What can I say, hun, the man's insatiable. How'd you know we were in the kitchen anyway?" she asked sheepishly

"Ze counter reeks of your pheromones, veela are more _sensitive_ to such 'zings," she said sensuously leaning closer to the metamorph.

"Ah, makes sense," Nym mumbled tickling Fleur's lips with her breath, before meeting her for a searing kiss, Fleur melting into the older witch's embrace after a long day at work. They continued to make out heatedly with increasing urgency as hands started roaming. Nym peeled off her blonde lover's robe top leaving her in a plain white lace bra and skirt, exposing flawless pale skin. Fleur trailed her dainty fingers down the metamorph's side curving around to cup a perky ass cheek.

"What _is_ it with you two and my ass?" the witch giggled goodnaturedly, "Harry couldn't keep his hands off it."

"I too 'ave noticed 'zat, 'zough after trying it _myself_ I can see 'ze appeal," Fleur replied, squeezing the pliable flesh for emphasis earning a moan in response.

"Speaking of Wonderboy," she said, glancing down briefly at the wizard in question, "are we really gonna' do this with him sleeping right there?"

Fleur smiled deviously, "I'm sure if we wake 'Arry up 'e will not be complaining _oui?_ "

"You bet you sweet ass Aphrodite," Nym laughed in response, flipping them over leaving her straddling the younger of the two. She peeled off the shirt she had been lazing around in all day, revealing her nude torso earning a giggle from the blonde veela.

"Not even a pair of knickers Ton—" she started, only to let out a soft, " _Oh,"_ as she felt the smug metamorph perched above her brush dexterous fingers along her clit.

"Problem, babe?" Nym questioned with entirely _too_ innocent eyes. Fleur briefly noticed Nym's unique choice of eye color before she was taken to cloud nine, silently thanking, not for the first time, that she had been blessed with such talented lovers. Nym scrambled off her girlfriend's hips settling down between her spread legs, slipping the witches skirt off, aided by the blonde's arched hips. Nym leaned closer teasing Fleur's core with tantalizingly hot breath.

 _'Oh yes, 'zis will definitely be a good night.'_


	18. Chapter 18

**Revised: 7/19/2019**

"—Again,"

Harry remained doubled over, wheezing from the staggering amount of magic he had just tried to force through his body. The exhaustion from using too much magic was unlike any other type of fatigue he had ever felt, spells that stretched his magical reserves to the limit seemed to draw on his very life force.

The charred, oddly geometric pattern etched in the wall opposite the young wizard was the only evidence of the siege-class lightening spell that he had unleashed moments previously. Luckily the magic-resistant walls of the Auror department training room were well up to the task of withstanding the onslaught.

"I've probably only got one more in me, Nym," Harry panted as he readied himself to cast once more.

"Make sure you're taking yourself to your absolute limits," she said. "Completely depleting your reserves enough times will help your body adapt to the stress allowing you to eventually channel more amounts of magic at a time."

"I should have known you weren't _only_ teaching me this lightening spell for shits and gigs," he answered wryly.

"My initial reason was valid, Wonderboy. Your transfiguration is Newt level by now and while the charms you use are simple from an academic standpoint, your mastery over them is like nothing I've ever seen." She said with a smile. "Between your above average baseline reserves and all the resistance training you've been doing, you've got power to spare, so you might as well learn some heavy hitters.

The 'heavy hitter' in question was the siege-class lightning conjuration _Fulminis_ that Harry had been drilling for the past twenty minutes. The spell classification used by the ICW was one of the most structured and comprehensive systems Harry had come across since he was first introduced to wizarding Britain as a whole. Lacking in the nonsensical nature of the rest of the country, spell classes were sorted and classified based both on the quantifiable damage caused, as well as the level of difficulty to master. Some charms and feats of transfiguration had effects that could not be reliably quantified, but for the majority of elemental conjuration or manipulation, as well as certain niche curses, the system was sound.

The majority of such spells in Harry's arsenal were either academy, duelist, or skirmish-class spells, however, weren't exactly indicative of their combat effectiveness. Harry's most impactful skills were heavily reliant on charms and transfiguration after all. Regardless, as Tonks had said earlier, he now had the magical reserves to back up a couple siege-class spells himself.

Now all he had to do was learn the damn thing…

"So the reason you want me to pass out is…" He started, breaking out of his thoughts.

"The more powerful magic you're using the faster your reserves will deplete," she shot back.

"And that's important becaaause…"

"Oh! If we drain the 'well' of power available to you enough times, it should, to continue the metaphor, 'refill' faster..."

"Probably."

Nym's shit-eating grin was unwavering, even through the sight of her pupil face palming in exasperation

Harry put into practice his crash course in Occlumency in order to clear his mind of all emotion, as unlike his experience with manipulating fire, _lightning_ did not feed off the more impulsive and lively emotions. With enough hate or passion, one would find certain fire elemental spells well within their reach, but with lightening, the mage would need to find balance within themselves. Containing the destructive force of fire and the fluidity of water battling for dominance. Reaching the appropriate state of mind, Harry _pulled_ the magic from his reserves, trying to siphon just enough power for one more lightning conjuration, and let it flow down his arm to his holly and phoenix feather wand. The resulting static discharge that arced around Harry's wand arm was unwelcome but not unexpected. He'd been having trouble channeling the spell efficiently all day…

"Steady Harry, pull back a little, babe," Nym cautioned, recognizing the signs of inefficient management of magic.

Harry adjusted his output slightly, cupping his off-hand in support of the expanding static energy, as he had found doing so helped him visualize the stability of some of the more volatile pieces of magic he had been researching. The fluctuating energy finally reached its peak as Harry released the built-up electricity in erratic bolts that _lanced_ through the air between the young mage and his target, carving deep furrows into the stone wall across from him. The smell of ozone filled the air as the brilliant light produced by the spell threw an ominous shadow over the two within the room.

The sheer destruction wrought by the single elemental conjuration was impressive to say the least, but despite his progress, Harry still felt leagues away from sorcerers like Dumbledore or Voldemort, who were said to toss around titan-class spells like nothing.

Harry collapsed in exhaustion, having just finished a normal day of training in addition to this sorry excuse of a warm-down Nym was abusing him with. He glanced down, noticing his wand hand spasming slightly from the aftereffects of channeling so much magic at once. Or rather… doing it poorly.

"What's going on, Wonderboy? Frankly you're better than the results you've been getting today," Nym said flopping down next to him on the floor and eyeing him critically.

"So you've notice too huh?" he frowned, having come to the same conclusion. He let his eyes drift to the unassuming stick of wood clutched lightly in his dexterous fingers, the holly scuffed and smudged from years of wear and tear. "I know they say a bad workman blames his tools, but I may have an idea of what the problem is," he said, twirling the wand between his fingers.

"What? The wand ya' think?" Nym responded, noticing the object of his attention, "It's uncommon but not unheard of for a witch or wizard to change enough on a fundamental level that their wand no longer resonates with them. I've never had need of a new wand," she mused, palming her own ash and dragon heartstring wand, "but my mother had to get a new one when she was around your age, about the time she defied the Blacks and was struck from their family tree."

"I had a feeling it would be something like that," Harry responded with a sigh. "How does one go about getting another wand when that happens? I know they're supposed to be regulated, right?"

"They are," she nodded. "You would ordinarily go to exchange with Ollivander which would reapply the trace for those under the age of twenty-one, but there _are_ ways around that." Nym checked him with her elbow lightly while he steadfastly avoided her gaze knowing _exactly_ what she wanted of him. "C'mooon! Aren'tcha gonna' ask what it is?" she hedged.

"Oh Nymphadora _please_ enlighten me with your vast knowledge on all things wandlore!" Harry asked as sardonically as possible.

"Fine then," Nym chirped, before she lightly rose to her feet and sauntered her five foot frame out of the training room, pausing to call over her shoulder. "I _was_ thinking of taking you to get a spare wand crafted but I guess you'll be fine when you overcharge it and it explodes. Right, babe!?"

"Wait! Nym c'moon!" Harry pleaded as he shakily rose to follow the nimble metamorph, still sore from the grueling day of training. Surprisingly she let him catch up, turning to smile prettily at him, but as he opened his mouth to speak a bright yellow hex impacted his chest, at first seeming to have no effect. He turned back to his girlfriend in askance only for the first locks of his thick black hair started to fall away. She smirked cockily before striding away, hips swaying tauntingly calling over her shoulder once more.

"Don't _call_ me Nymphadora!"

"As much as you hate it Nym, the name's oddly appropriate; a unique name for an even more unique woman," Harry said to himself, not noticing the warm smile that split across the face of the witch in question as she flitted away.

oooOoOoOooo

"What did 'is 'air ever do to _you_?!"

"What makes you think _I_ did it!?"

"'Zen what 'appened?!"

"…"

Harry smiled at the squabbling witches as he ran his hands self-consciously through his significantly shorter hairstyle, having decided to just bite the banisher and try something new after losing all his hair. It took him nearly a half hour after taking Nym's curse, but he now sported a clean looking undercut in his natural black, but streaked with silver highlights that incidentally matched the silver of his outer irises.

The café where the trio had met was a small shop a short jaunt into muggle London from the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron; Fleur and Harry had found the wholesome shop while looking for a place to have lunch weeks previously.

Fleur slid into the booth next to him and Harry reveled in the soft flesh conforming to the harder planes of his torso. He had always been particularly attuned to her magic, but now, after consummating their relationship, his magic practically _sung_ with her own. Sexual magic was a _very_ real thing, and according to their resident expert, could occur passively with various effects to the involved parties. His magic now resonated with Nym's as well, Fleur's veela heritage simply amplified the effects to an even greater height. Unfortunately, due to the heavily ritualistic nature of most sex magic, information about it was scarce, and besides the tidbits Fleur could recall of the top of her head, they were unsure of the possible effects of the bond itself.

Harry was brought out of his musings when Fleur turned away from her pouting, vibrant-haired girlfriend and ran her own delicate fingers through his shorter hair. "I can't say I dislike 'ze change Nym," she sighed, eyeing his face critically before smiling and pecking him on the lips lightly.

"All according to plan," Nym shot smugly across the table.

"Oh so you _were_ the reason for 'zis change" she answered with narrowed eyes, "'Ze truth finally comes out." Nym just blinked innocently as she glanced off to the side, purposefully ignoring the younger witch.

Harry interrupted the pair, thinking it would be prudent to do so before they _really_ got going. "She was the impetus for the change, but I may have been antagonizing her a bit myself," He admitted, smiling slightly at the memory.

"I still admit nothing," Nym said, crossing her arms petulantly.

" _Anyways_ ," Fleur interjected, eyes still narrowed at her girlfriend, "Why are we 'ere?" She said, gesturing to the dimly lit café.

"Harry here has been having potency issues," Nym said, before cringing at her own poor wording, "I mean potency with his wand."

Fleur snickered quietly.

"I _meant_ his phoenix feather wand!"

"I did not say any'zing, Nym," Fleur chirped, smiling widely.

Harry ignored Tonks' uncharacteristically flustered behavior for the moment to clarify the situation to the younger of his girlfriends. "What Nym has been _meaning_ to say, is that I've been having trouble channeling magic lately, and Nym thinks my wand may not be the best fit anymore."

Fleur pondered this information for a moment, before turning to the witch in question. "What makes you say 'zis?"

Harry considered the question before answering.

"I didn't notice it at first because my magic itself had never felt anymore free, but ever since I lost the horcrux, the flow of magic from my body to my focus has been… _strained_ for lack of a better term." Harry sat in consideration briefly, "It's always been _curious_ that we had brother wands after all," smirking slightly at his wording, "perhaps it was the fragment of the madman's soul that the holly wand chose all those years ago," Harry mused glancing up at present company.

"'Zat is… interesting to say 'ze least." Fleur said.

Harry ran his fingers down the textured surface of his wand, currently strapped to his wrist in a holster and charmed invisible. The warmth indicative of the wand's loyalty was not totally absent, but noticeably diminished, giving Harry a pang of regret at the situation he was faced with. His first wand meant much more to him that a simple tool to harness magic after all. For as long as he could remember before the age of fifteen he had coasted through life with very little to live for, his 'caretakers' certainly made sure of that. His first wand was symbolic of his liberation from the oppressive environment, not to mention it was the first of a choice few possessions that he held close to his heart.

Noticing his somber mood Fleur nudged him slightly, "What is wrong _mon amour?"_

He glanced up to see Fleur's bright blue eyes, brows furrowed in concern, and smiled, realizing he no longer needed to be weighed down by his past, nor materialistic possessions.

Perhaps it was simply _magic_ that had actually set him free… he mused, glancing between the two witches.

"I'm… fine," he said, entirely truthful for once, smiling reassuringly at the girls, who both seemed dubious with reason. "Really!" he insisted, realizing he would have to clarify to placate the two. "Ok, I admit I was slightly upset at having to give up my wand, we've been through a lot together, and when I was first introduced to the wizarding world I saw it as something that was saving me from the Dursleys and finally letting me meet some friends," he said, gesturing wildly with his hands in his excitement. "And while that's still true in a sense, the past couple of months I've stopped taking magic for granted and truly rediscovering the _wonder_ of it all… ya' know?" He finished, smiling widely

"To be fair 'Arry, some of 'ze 'zings you do wiz' a wand are _particularly_ wondrous," Fleur murmured lovingly, "not many mages could boast the same."

"But that's just it isn't it?" Nym cut in, "Witches and wizards have lived with magic their whole lives, rarely appreciating it for what it is. My Mum an' Dad always insisted I have hobbies in both worlds and I never really appreciated how much more kickass it made magic for me," she added, smiling in reminiscence. "Not to mention pop culture is _soo_ much better in the mundane world."

"I must admit Nym, any'zing beyong 'ze trends adopted by 'ze wizarding world are out of my depth. France's magical community is more liberal 'zan most, but we are still behind 'ze times." Fleur breathed out, squishing her cheek cutely while propping her face up with a hand.

Tonks glanced from Fleur to Harry with a skeptical look on her face.

"Hey don't look at _me_ , I may have grown up without magic, but I was lucky if I could nick the post let alone anything else," Harry said in defense. "The height of my childhood was camping out in the Library to get away from Dudley," he scoffed.

"W—what about _this_ then!?" Nym choked out disbelievingly as she tugged down her low-cut band shirt to flatten out the graphic on it.

"Well they're fantastic," Harry said, the metamorph's actions putting her already generous cleavage even _more_ on display. Fleur gave a subtle nod in agreement.

" _I meant the band!_ " she fumed, eye twitching in aggravation.

It's a wonder her hair hadn't changed yet, Harry chuckled inwardly. Thought he doubted she could walk around muggle London if her control wasn't impeccable. Harry was for once thankful that his own hue shifts only came after a deliberate struggle, a side effect being that his hair had yet to shift along with heightened emotions, though it hadn't truly been put to the test yet.

"I _know_ what you meant, Nym!" he snickered, "Even _I_ would recognize Pink Floyd's logo, though I can't say I've had the pleasure of hearing their music," he said consideringly.

" _What_ is 'zis Pink Floyd?" Fleur asked as if tasting the name itself.

"Mmkay, that's it." Nym cried dramatically, " _We._ Are gonna' get _you._ A record player for our flat!" Nym was now leaned halfway across the table bracing herself with her arms to get in both their faces. Fleur cocked an eyebrow at the outburst before glancing down at the unintentional show she was given. "FOCUS Fleur!"

" _Merci_!" Fleur uttered slightly flushed, before turning to the wizard beside her. "'Zey are particularly perky today _non?"_ the veela giggled into Harry's ear, getting an emphatic nod in return.

"Ughhh!" came the unintelligible response from the quirky witch across from the pair.

Harry smiled at the exchange before speaking up. "Soo I'm not opposed to stopping by a record store as well, but… what were we talking about before?" he asked, having been sidetracked by the tangential nature of their conversation.

"Um… 'ze wand _non?"_

" _Right!_ I was gonna' take wonderboy here to a wandcrafters, I know a guy who owes me a favor," Nym said, leaving the pair blinking at the speed at which she bounced between topics. "wanna' come babe?" She asked, giving her companions whiplash from her contradicting emotions.

Fleur eyed her girlfriend briefly before answering with a short " _Oui._ "

Harry noticed the look that passed between the two witches but dismissed it, believing they would clue him in if it was relevant. His thoughts were brought back to the present as Nym rose from her seat and rushed out the door, "Well? C'mon!" she shot over her shoulder.

Minutes later three staccato cracks of apperation were heard from the alleyway around the corner.

oooOoOoOooo

Harry and Fleur trailed behind Nym as she stepped onto the porch of a nondescript home on the northern outskirts of London. The house itself looked to be three stories and of Victorian style with tasteful red brick exterior. Tonks flicked out her wand before letting a trickle of raw magic seep into what Harry knew was probably the ward scheme.

"The proximity ward has probably already been tripped, this is just a way to let him know who it is that's come knocking," Nym explained as she flicked her wand away. She hopped up onto the banister that ran the perimeter of the porch, arms straight out for balance as she demonstrated surprising gymnastic ability.

"So who exactly _is_ this guy, Nym?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow at the display. Fleur was not so reserved in her reaction, yanking the smaller witch down into her arms earning a comical squawk for her efforts.

"Behave yourself! You _are_ an adult, _non?_ " Fleur hissed, actions contradicting her words as she carried her girlfriend bridal style, slight smile giving away her amusement despite the admonishing tone.

"But _Aphrodite,_ uncle Ali never cared about me playing on the rails before," she pouted sullenly, hair desaturating appropriately.

"And how _is_ it living in Doraland!?" came a growl from the front door, now sitting ajar, framing the man in the doorway.

"Uncle Ali!" Tonks cried wriggling out of Fleur's arms to embrace the newcomer.

"I should 'ave known it was you with all the noise you were causin'"

"Bollocks! You knew it was me 'cause I'm the only one that visits anymore, old man!" Nym shot back smugly.

"Yeah yeah," he rasped, before turning to Harry and Fleur standing there awkwardly. "'Oo do we 'ave 'ere then?" He asked turning the two youngest of the trio.

On closer inspection the man looked to be around his mid-fifties if one was to judge by nonmagical standards. With the increased youth and longevity granted by magic, he could be anywhere between seventy to one hundred years old. He was of average height, still towering over Nym's currently tiny frame, and had piercing blue eyes and a prominent nose. The wizard lacked any facial hair, but sported long, graying hair tied in a ponytail. A plain black robe draped over his slightly rotund frame, rounded out his entirely ordinary appearance.

"Oh! Uh…" Tonks started, as if having to introduce her polyamorous relationship to a family friend was entirely unexpected situation. Upon seeing Nym's expression Harry figured that was the exact case and decided to give her an out.

"Hello! I'm Harry, and this is Fleur Delacour. We're… friends, of your… niece?" Harry tried.

The man grunted in confirmation of the title before sticking a hand out, "Alistair Mckinnon," he said by way of introduction. Harry grasped the outstretched hand in a quick handshake, as did Fleur by his side. It seemed that the multiple physical changes to Harry over the summer had altered his appearance enough to not be recognized, since Alistair did not search for his nonexistent scar, nor was he effected by Fleur's allure, though that may have been due to the witch's ever-increasing control over it.

To Harry's surprise the man turned back to Tonks after the introduction, " _friends'_ Dora? Really?"

"If you three aren't shagging I'll eat my shoe," the man barked out. "Does Andy know yet?"

Harry sat sputtering at both the vulgarity and accuracy demonstrated by the old wizard, though judging from Tonks' personality he didn't know why he was surprised in the slightest. Fleur just coughed lightly to hide her embarrassment.

"No…" came the eventual murmured answer from the flustered metamorph.

"Better get on with that then, you _know_ Andy will find out eventually and will be significantly more pissed if she finds out you kept it from 'er," Alistair cackled in amusement.

Nym merely grumbled in response, the occasional '…treat me like a child….' And 'act like I'm ten…" becoming audible.

"I have a feeling I know what you're 'ere for so ya' might as well come in," the man sighed, turning and leading the trio back into a dark hallway leading further into the silent house. Several portrait frames, some unoccupied, lined the hallway, though Harry did not recognize any of who he assumed were the old man's family.

"You 'ave a beautiful 'ome _Monsieur Mckinnon."_ Fleur said, breaking the silence.

"It's just Alistair, lass, or Uncle Ali if you're as close as I think you are with Dora 'ere."

The platinum blonde witch pinked slightly, "If you don't mind me asking, 'ow did you know we were—"

"Boinking like rabbits?"

"Ah… _oui…"_

Harry and Nym snickered quietly to themselves slightly behind the conversing pair, both having never seen the blonde so flustered before.

"Lass, sensing and analyzing magic an' auras is what I've done for the past fifty years. I'd have to be blind to miss the way you three are calling to each other." He said idly as the long hallway brought group into a well-worn workshop that smelled of sawdust and several other unidentifiable scents. Despite the ordinary appearance of the small workshop, Harry could practically _drink_ the ambient magic in the air of the dimly lit room. Several tables were cluttered with boxes and tools unfamiliar to the young wizard, but a single desk along the far wall was left tidy and organized. It was the aforementioned workbench that that trio was led to before the man turned around and addressed them once more.

"So," he said, looking at the trio expectantly. "Who am I crafting for, Dora?"

"Ah, me, sir," Harry said stepping forward while pulling out his wand, and passing it over hilt first. "We have a suspicion that my wand may not quite be suited for me anymore."

Alistair took the piece in a weathered yet steady hand murmuring under his breath. "Holly and phoenix feather correct young man?"

"That's right,"

"Well…" He mused out loud peering into Harry's unnerving green and silver eyes without a sign of discomfort. "I'm afraid to tell you your hunch was correct, the match is decent, but not what it once was…" "It takes a major upheaval in someone's life to alter one's ego so completely," he stated leadingly.

"That's something I'll be keeping to myself thanks," Harry cut in testily.

"Yeah yeah keep yer secrets, see if I care." Came the muttered response. "I assume you've brought yer cores?" he questioned as he began rifling through drawers leaving a plethora of identically cut wands on the table, all with varying textures and colors indicating wood types..

"What? I didn't kno—"

"Yep!" Harry had started to answer before being cut off by Tonks. He turned to the witch in question, today wearing a hot-pink pixie-cut, asking for an explanation. One was given, but not from Tonks.

"I 'ad an 'unch why you brought me wiz' you today Nym, 'zough I wonder why you did not offer to make 'ze donation yourself."

Nym smirked in the younger witch's direction, "He needs a spare too Aphrodite, I figured why not make a pair while we're here?"

"I'm… not following here." Harry said blankly.

Tonks was quick to explain. "Uncle Ali here used to craft for most of the black family—"

"At least until the fools started killing each other off in that _blasted_ war!" Alistair raged. _Toujours Pur_ indeed! The fanatics were pure until the very end," he spat bitterly.

"Quiet, old man! We've got a new war on our hands," Nym admonished her adoptive uncle with a slight smirk.

"It's the same war, Dora, just a new generation," he said, eyes downcast before turning back to Harry. "As I was saying, young man—"

"Hey _I_ was explaining not you!"

"—I'll craft you a wand but you need to bring your own core," he continued ignoring Tonks' interruption. "Normally this is a magically conductive material the witch or wizard attains on their own merit, or a material that resonates particularly well with your magic." The wandcrafter paused briefly, eyeing the wizard opposite him. "For example," he said, holding Harry's holly and phoenix feather wand up to eye level, "the phoenix can represent life, death, and rebirth. And immortality of course," he added as an afterthought, seemingly missing the slight twitch from his guests.

Harry went to question the man further. "So that would mean—"

"Well that's the curious thing you see—"

"Always with the 'curious'," Harry sighed.

"—The phoenix feather of _this_ particular wand resonates quite well with your magic despite the qualities of the being no longer matching you well," Alistair mused out loud, once again ignoring the interruption.

Harry was amazed at the insight of the wizard, having guessed vaguely at what exactly had happened over several years of his life. The phoenix tears still running through Harry's veins were apparently the reason for his wand still working decently for him, but it was Riddle's soul and the man's obsession with immortality that had earned the wand's loyalty in the first place. Having that confirmed for him broke the last bonds he had with his old want, igniting a yearning within him for a wand that was truly his own.

But that presented a problem… Harry turned back to the girls who had been oddly quiet while he was conversing with the aged wandcrafter.

"So, Nym, why'd you bring me here if you knew I needed to bri—"

He paused mid-inquiry when he realized how close his companions had come while his attention had been otherwise occupied. His eyes met those of the two most important people in his life, both witches were perched side by side, Fleur quietly focused while Nym grinned unabashedly.

What were these two up to?

Fleur was the first to move, reaching up languidly up to part the curtains of her shimmering, white-blonde hair with the wand that had appeared in her hand. Pinching a single strand between the fingertips of her off-hand she separated it from the root with a precise cutting charm.

" _Monsieur_ Ollivander was not wrong when 'e said 'zey were temperamental, 'Arry," Fleur murmured, holding out the shimmering strand, "but I 'zink you will find an 'air willingly given will be less so." She eyed him through fluttering lashes, oddly submissive, "'Zat is… if you want it of course."

Harry having been silent at the intimate offer being made, broke out of his reverie at the hint of vulnerability in his partner's tone.

"Of course Fleur, I would be honored," he answered quickly, a wide smile splitting his face as he accepted the glowing fiber. Harry deposited the donated hair into a vial helpfully conjured by Alistair, who had remained quiet throughout the private moment.

Placing the vial on the countertop, Harry turned back to the girls just in time to see Tonks unceremoniously toss a luminescent strand of her own hair, into the air.

"Catch!" she shouted, ignoring the rolled eyes of the witch beside her.

It was child's play for Harry to snatch the bright strand as it floated fluidly through space. The way the hair behaved when not manipulated by the metamorph's will was interesting to say the least. The oddly pearlescent hue reminded Harry of the constantly changing colors of the mage's inferno he had tried days previously. Though not donated as ceremoniously as the witch beside her, Nym's gesture was no less appreciated by the young wizard

"You too huh?" he said simply, his mouth quirking up into a lopsided smile.

"Well… _you_ know," she said, waving her hand in faux modesty, "You needed a spare, what can I say?"

"Neither will be a spare," he said with a gentle smile mirrored by the two witches. The double meaning was not lost on them.

Harry turned, handing over the second of his two wand cores before waiting patiently for Alistair to proceed.

"Cast through the blanks, Harry, a _lumos_ will do," he said, waving to the various wands on the workbench.

After testing each coreless wand Harry found that his magic resonated the best with an inky-black wood polished to a glossy shine that lay second from the far left.

"Hmm… ebony," Alistair mused. "I believe we will pair that with Dora's hair."

Tuning the old wizard out, Harry bathed the small room in a pale blue light with the next wand he tried.

"Interesting… that would be—"

"-Willow," Harry cut in, recognizing the pale wood. "My mother's wand was willow," he murmured to himself.

"Indeed. A good fit for the hair of a veela," Alistair said in confirmation, before rifling through his drawers, pulling out two sizable branches of wood, and placing them on the table. "A small bit of blood if you will Harry," he said idly, handing the wizard in question a silver dagger.

Harry glanced over his shoulder giving Tonks an impassive look, "Third time's the charm?"

"Third time's the charm!" she sung back giving him a metamorph-enlarged double thumbs up. Harry chuckled at his lover's antics, carefully slicing his palm before handing the knife over to the wandcrafter, who flicked it into a vial.

Alistair whipped out his own wand, eyes narrowed in concentration, before weaving magic around the darker of the two branches with practiced efficiency. A pressure seemed to fill the room as the Crafter molded his magic wordlessly to his will. His power began to saturate the material, the wood shivering as it responded to the enchantment, seemingly coming alive, growing towards the pearlescent metamorphmagus hair. The dark wood continued to encase both the chosen core as well as the donated drop of blood, all while the prodigious wandcrafter continued to weave his magic.

Fleur crept closer to the table, enraptured by display, having never seen a wand created in such a manner before. It was almost as if the man was speeding up the natural growth of the wood according to his will, but how he was accomplishing such a feat was beyond the amateur enchantress's knowledge.

The entire process took no more than a few minutes, but the result was, in Harry's opinion, magnificent. Truely a work of art that belied that time it took to create. Harry admired the narrow instrument, which seemed to be made up of several different branches of the dark wood all intertwined naturally.

"Thirty-five centimeters, ebony and Metamorphmagus hair, flexible," the crafter listed off, grabbing a rag and polish before buffing the dark wood to an attractive shine.

Satisfied with his work, the wizard handed his creation over hilt-first to its prospective master. Gently clasping his right hand around the polished grip, Harry exhaled in surprise at the rush of meshing so completely with a wand once more. The young wizard reveled in the distinct tenor of Nym's magic humming in his palm, smiling at the thought that he'd always have a small piece of the girls with him. He took a moment to center himself before opening his eyes once more only to look upon the product of the wand's first bonding. The miniature animated wooden owl drifted lazily around the room, startlingly realistic in its appearance and movement.

"Ebony most often lends itself to the non-conformist, and those who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure. A wand that thrives with adversity…" Alistair intoned, breaking Harry out of his reverie. "Particularly potent for transfiguration. Appropriate, considering the donor wouldn't you say?"

Harry smiled in response. "Appropriate _and_ admirable," he said, glancing between the wand and the witch in question. "Thank you, Nym," he said with a heated gaze. She grinned before yanking him down to her level by the collar and kissing him soundly.

"Well, if you don't mind we have another wand to create don't we?" Alistair said gruffly, interrupting the pair.

" _Monsieur,_ why is it you are not world famous wiz' 'zis kind of magic? I 'ave never see any'zing like it before, _c'est manifique!"_

Alistair roared with laughter, "That no way to live life lass! I'm quite content practicing my craft in peace. It's a rare art, but not unheard of. In fact, if you talk to any herbologist worth their salt you might be able to figure it out yourself!" He snarked.

" _Merci,_ Alistair, I will be sure to do 'zat," Fleur responded, looking intrigued at the possibilities.

The old wandcrafter began the familiar process of 'growing' the wand, this time using the lighter, cream-colored branch of wood to encase the silvery blonde veela hair. The resultant willow wand was slightly narrower than the ebony piece, also having a much more uniform appearance to it.

"Thirty-five centimeters, Willow and veela hair, unyielding. Willow has a well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, nonverbal magic, and have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn," he lectured, handing over the second wand of the day. "In other words, it is an instrument of untapped potential, a wand of excellence." the old wizard murmured in consideration.

Harry's breath hitched as his magic latched onto the familiar resonance of Fleur's as the willow wand accepted its first master, conjuring a swirling globe of ice suspended in mid-air which rapidly changed physical states, before bursting into in a cloud of steam.

"It is always interesting seeing the reactions new wands have to more experienced wizards," Alistair mused. "As children we are mostly blank slates, most of the time barely managing to shoot sparks with our first wand, but as we get older, the reaction to the bonding can give incredible insight into magic's opinion of them." The old man seemed lost in thought for a moment, before speaking up once again. "Your wands in particular have a strange dichotomy, seeming to reflect the women in your life," he said, grinning slightly. "I wish you luck in your future endeavors, Mr. Potter."

Harry started slightly, having never mentioned his last name the man, "how did you—"

"Well I've got to keep _some_ of my secrets don't I, Harry?"

"Right… so about payment-" Harry began, reaching into an expanded pocket of his robe.

"No need lad, I owed Dora here a favor, though I believed the debt was payed with the _one_ wand _wasn't_ it Dora dear?" he hedged, his smirk taking years off of his appearance. "So I believe _you_ owe _me_ one now."

"Sure, you keep tellin' yourself that, old man!" Nym cackled racing down the hallway to the front door of the house, Fleur following behind at a measured pace.

"Oi! Potter," he called out as Harry turned to follow the girls, "look after Dora, won'tcha'? She's wicked with a wand but tends to get in over her head, lad."

Harry smiled in response to the affection in the old wizards voice before nodding in confirmation, "I can't really claim to be much better about that kinda' thing, sir, but Fleur's good about keeping us out of trouble," he laughed, scratching awkwardly at his hair, having not quite gotten used to the new style yet.

"I guess that's the best I can ask for then," Alistair answered.

"Thanks for all your help, Alistair," Harry said tentatively, waving over his shoulder as he left the home meeting up with the girls once again on the front porch.

"You wouldn't happened to have brought an extra holster would you?" he asked, gesturing with his willow wand having already strapped the ebony into the holster on his right wrist.

"Naw, but I've got one at the apartment," Nym divulged, "where were you planning on wearing it?"

"I was thinking the opposite wrist but loaded tip first, so I can still draw with my right hand." Harry said, miming the action as he spoke. "I'm not ambidextrous, so my best bet is being able to reach the second one if I'm ever disarmed.

"You can figure it out later, Wonderboy," Nym said dismissively, "It's now time for the most important stop of the day! Time for your musical education!" She cried, before promptly disappearing with a twirl and a soft _pop_.

"A symbolic show of intimacy turned into a side errand…" Fleur sighed, earning a chuckle from her bonded.

"If it makes you feel any better, I absolutely _adore_ having a piece of you always with me," Harry murmured lovingly into her ear before taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Fleur flushed prettily muttering, "It does," with a smile.

"Shall we then?" Harry said, cocking an eyebrow.

" _Oui,"_

The pair apperated away following their mutual lover's warp trail to the heart of muggle London with twin pops

oooOoOoOooo.

Harry paced slowly through the tiered shelves of records, peering at the various names of bands and artists as well as the unique cover arts of each album. Some of the names were familiar to him, but the lack of friends and general social interaction as a child left him ignorant to much of the music. He glanced up, searching for Nym who had slunk between the shelves earlier with practiced ease. Harry turned, only to come face to face with a girl around his own age, dressed in a snug pair of black jeans and band shirt. Noting the name tag reading 'kelly' Harry assumed she worked for the store, an assumption that was proven by the first words from her mouth.

"Hello! Anything I can help you with, hun?" she said, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

Harry gave the dark-haired girl a polite smile before making as if to answer but was interrupted by a familiar weight jumping on to his shoulders like a colorful backpack.

"Back off K! He's taken!" Nym cried over his shoulder, grinning down devilishly at the shop assistant.

"Oh don't be like that Tonks!" the girl pouted. "I'm not opposed to sharing after all," she said, smiling demurely.

The mood seemed to chill as Fleur spoke up as she glided past Kelly, "I believe 'zat ship 'as sailed _mademoiselle_ " she said icily, a too-cheerful smile splitting her face. The employee seemed a bit intimidated by the statuesque blonde, ceasing her flirtatious efforts backing up a pace.

"I left a stack of records at the register K," Nym said, hopping down from her perch atop Harry's shoulders and leading the group to the front of the store.

"I _know_ you have at least half of these records Tonks, what's the deal?" Kelly said, rifling through the pile.

"I'm educating these two on _proper_ music," Tonks answered swinging an arm around her two companions. "We'll take the player as well K."

"Right on, it comes out to 200 pounds," the cashiered said, taking the correct amount from Nym, being the only of the three to have muggle currency on her person. They left the small shop, following Nym towards the nearest entrance to the London underground, not being able to apperrate with the record player Harry was now carrying.

"How _are_ we getting around our electronics being fried anyway?" Harry pondered out loud

"Its only places like Hogwarts that are saturated with… energy dense enough to effect electronics, If you keep it in a room where you don't cast it should be fine," Tonks answered as she strolled along by his side, speaking without giving anything about magic away as she dodged around the bustling mundaes of London.

"Does the flat even _have_ outlets?"

"'Zere are ways around 'zat 'Arry," Fleur cut in. "Beauxbatons is likewise unable to support modern electronics, 'owever my family 'ome is not so limited," she said, smiling softly and taking his hand. He grinned in response, giving it a squeeze as they cut through the crowds.

The three had almost reached the Underground when a shop with dark windows and flickering neon lighting caught his eye. The sight of the store brought forth memories of his Uncle Vernon ranting about the 'delinquents flaunting their freakish scribbles all over their bodies.' In fact, they were probably labeled freaks _almost_ as much as he had been during that time. But Harry had always admired being able to express oneself so permanently using one's own body as a canvas. As a child he _yearned_ for such freedom, his creativity having been stymied for as for as long as he could remember. Harry grinned, imagining his Uncle's face if he ever showed up with a tattoo himself, but paused considering it more seriously. It wouldn't do to make such a decision just to spite his uncle after all, it would have to be something significant enough to permanently ink onto his body.

"What's up, Wonderboy?" Nym called back, noticing after a moment that Harry had stopped in front of the professional looking tattoo parlor.

"Uh…" came his response, blanking on how to explain his reasoning properly. Not that his reasoning really _was_ anything more than 'I finally have the freedom to do what I want, and I wanna' get a tattoo."

Luckily, Nym picked up on his idea rushing back to him gushing in excitement. "Now _that's_ what I call teenage rebellion!" she cheered, yanking him towards the shop.

"If it looks tacky I will curse it off myself," the Fleur grumbled, following the pair in a resigned manner.

"Lighten up, Aphrodite! It's like a rite of passage!"

"Are you sure you are not just living vicariously through 'im?" Fleur said knowingly, having heard the metamorph lament several times at being unable to get tattoo's due to constantly shifting her skin.

" _Semantics."_ Nym shrugged.

"'Zats not even what 'zat means!" Fleur cried in exasperation, their bickering causing them to miss Harry slipping into the back room to speak with one the artists to plan out the piece he wanted.

The man Harry spoke to was heavily muscled and had plenty of ink of his own as well as multiple piercings, but seemed happy enough to take on the job.

"Nym, Fleur, I'll probably be here for a while,"

"Four hours, give or take," The man cut in helpfully.

Harry nodded in thanks, "four hours," he repeated unnecessarily. "So you girls might not want to wait around for me"

The two witches eyed each other before Nym spoke up, "I guess we can find _something_ to pass the time." She picked up their packages before pulling Fleur around the stools and towards the door.

"Oh before I forget! Can one of you withdraw and exchange some cash from my vault on the way home?" Harry said, holding up his key in askance. At Fleur's nod he tossed the key in a gentle arc to the witch as she was half dragged out of the shop.

"See ya' in a bit, Wonderboy!" Nym waved. Fleur managed to blow a kiss right before she was yanked out the door.

"You ready to start, _Wonderboy?"_ The man joked as he readied his iron.

"No need for jealousy, Lenny," Harry said grinning, having gotten the man's name moments earlier.

The man laughed uproariously, "They _are_ very beautiful Ladies after all, kid, "let's get started shall we? Shirt off."

Harry complied, preparing himself for several hours in the chair.

oooOoOoOooo

Hours later, Fleur entered the same small tattoo parlor, her girlfriend at her side as she walked in finding Harry lying prone in the same position they had left him in. The veela peered over the muscled man's shoulder to inspect his progress on Harry's new ink. Her breath caught as her eyes took in the elegant design that curved up along the front of his left deltoid muscle, snaking down onto his toned chest. The graphic was entirely in black, created in a simplistic geometric style starting with the image of an avian-like creature at the shoulder, its talons and curved beak, flowing seamlessly into the depiction of a chameleon with a telltale scaled crown. The reptilian creature's tail curled down to rest right above Harry's heart.

"BAD. ASS!" Nym cried, slapping the artist heartily on the back. Luckily the man had just pulled his tool away from Harry's skin so they avoided any accidently impalings. "Oh I'm _so_ jealous!" she cried as she watched the man wipe down the design with disinfectant.

"I'd be happy to do somethin' for you as well, lass," Lenny commented, tossing the used needle in the designated receptacle and replacing the parts to his machine quickly and efficiently.

"I can't," Tonks pouted in response, "My uh… parents won't let me," she answered banking on the man misjudging her age. It seemed the excuse was believable enough as Lenny simply nodded in response as he cleaned his work space.

Harry hopped up out of the chair, only to be met as he stood by Fleur's soft lips giving him a toe-curling kiss right in the middle of the shop. "I'm flattered 'Arry, it seems 'zat I won't be 'aving to forcibly remove 'ze ink," she purred, nipping playfully at his ear.

"The choice of animals was a nice touch," Nym cut in with a grin, "a chameleon huh? I guess that works," she mused. "Thanks, Wonderboy," she whispered trailing a finger slowly over the curled tail on his bare chest, sending shivers up the young wizard's spine.

"Alright! pay up and then get a room you, three," Lenny said, interrupting the trio, "My shop isn't a place to jump the boy!" he said good naturedly.

"Thanks Lenny," Harry laughed handing the man proper payment that Fleur had retrieved from his vault in the hours that he had been under the needle.

The three were about to leave the shop when a glowing ethereal lynx burst through the wall bathing the small room in glowing light, before opening its mouth wide to deliver its message in the deep baritone of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

 _"Privet Drive under attack, we have visuals on several dementors and a small squad of Death Eaters, possible more hidden. All active order members respond. I repeat, all active order members respond"_

The room was silent for a moment before the moment was broken.

 _"Obliviate!"_

Harry gazed regretfully at his new friend, the man now staring vacantly down the tip of Nym's wand. The man would possibly never remember him again depending on the witch's precision with mind wiping, but he knew it was necessary, no law was more imperative to follow than the statue of secrecy after all.

Harry met the eyes of his two companions knowing they were both considering the new situation they found themselves in.

"Well… _shit_!"

 _'That about sums it up Nym,'_ he thought humorlessly.

 **AN: This one got away from me in length, but I like how it turned out despite somehow accidently ending up with _three_ OC's in a single chapter. They were meant to be faceless filler characters but kinda just got away from me, let me know what you think, I'm actually not sure how I feel about this one.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Revised: 7/19/2019**

 **AN: Alrighty then new chapter! I have to say this was _the_ hardest chapter I've written so far, and is the first major deviation from canon as you can tell from the last thing that happened in the previous chapter. I'll speak more on that at the AN at the end but for now, enjoy.**

Luckily, Lenny was manning the shop alone that day, so the trio had no need to worry about any other witnesses to the arrival of Kingsley's poorly-timed patronus message. Tonks had informed the other two that the artist would close up shop early after what he would remember as a distinctly slow day. Frankly, the fact that people were so susceptible to suggestion post-obliviation was alarming to Harry, restricting the spell with ministry laws could only prevent it so much after all.

"How does a patronus even _look_ whe n it's mid-flight?" Harry muttered, "I can't imagine muggles would ignore glowing animals flying through the streets for too long."

"Well, for one, you're grossly overestimating the abilities of the average witch or wizard," Tonks answered thoughtfully, leading them agilely through the streets looking for a place they could apperate discretely. "If everyone could cast a patronus then we wouldn't need owls, would we? But as for it being visible to muggles, I think it only shows up when it's cast, and when it delivers its message," Tonks said, shoving a larger man bodily out of the way as he got a bit handsy as she passed by. Harry eyed the man imperiously as he passed, their time frame the only thing preventing him from stopping.

"There's _got_ to be a better way to communicate though, it's not like wizards are _never_ in the muggle world."

"—Per'aps this isn't 'ze time 'Arry?"

"Riiight…so I know they called you in Nym, but remind me again why we aren't just telling them to get out of there? There's no one _left_ on Privet Drive anyway!"

"We don't know _if_ your relatives left Harry, not that that's any reason to go." Nym said, ducking around a corner into an alleyway. Harry and Fleur slipped in behind her "You forget that dementors don't discriminate in their victims, the fools you call relatives may have ignored Fleur's warning but there's still an entire street of civilians entirely defenseless. They couldn't have _all_ been horrible people… right?"

Harry sighed, conceding her point. "The old man most likely had someone still watching Number four or they would have never even realized there was a threat in the first place right?"

"Yeah, there's no guards but he still had some old lady living in one of the houses. Ms. … Fi—something."

Harry's eyes bulged. "Mrs. Figg?! She would babysit me when I was like eight, she was a witch!?"

"Nuh-uh, a squib I think," Tonks mused, before smiling, "The one time she came to HQ she was carrying this cat around with her the whole time, the thing hated me," she finished a little _too_ proudly.

"I am sure 'ze cat 'ad no reason to fear you, Nym," Fleur commented to Nym's consternation.

"I was perfectly behaved, thank you very much!"

Harry let out a heavy breath, compartmentalizing the fact that someone magical had been living just across the street from him for his whole life. Now was hardly the time to fret. "Right then, what's the plan," he said, looking between the two witches, ignoring the sour scent of garbage and who know what else in the alleyway they had taken refuge in.

Nym immediately took charge, falling quickly into the role of mentor to the two younger magicals. "Subdue the dementors right when we apperate in," she started, her eyes hawk-like in their focus. "Once we take care of them, Kingsley will hopefully have a better grasp of the situation when we get there. Since the Death Eaters were most likely after you, Harry, we're gonna' be aiming for just up the street to avoid any anti-apperation wards, the first streetlamp north of your house ok? Oh, and here," she said as an afterthought, tossing a small bundle of leathery straps to him.

"Thanks, good thinking," he grinned, removing his willow wand from the expanded pocket in his jacket, and strapping it snugly to his left wrist, making sure it was loaded with the tip facing his elbow.

"Keep an eye out for Pettigrew," Harry advised grinning sadistically as he prepared himself for apparition. "Preferably alive, but I'm sure he won't miss a limb or two _too_ badly."

"Be sure to watch each other's backs guys," Nym said airily, "I'd hate to have to go on a killing spree to avenge one of you."

"Aww, you _do_ care, _non?_ "

"Yeah, yeah, you guys ready?" They both nodded, "Ok then, three…two…one…" Three cracks of apperation, close enough to each other to sound like a single sound, interrupted the final number of Tonks' countdown, and the alleyway was silent once more.

oooOoOoOooo

Harry barely had time to consider the scorched shrubs and debris scattered across a once-flawless lawn before he was yanked bodily to the side. The space previously occupied by his head flashed with a dazzlingly yellow organ liquefier, a spell that would have instantly ended his life had it struck true.

The near-brush with death ignited his senses as Harry slipped for the first time into the mindset of potentially ending someone's life. He touched Nym's shoulder in thanks as he ducked the next curse that sailed towards the trio, his ebony wand seeming to appear in his hand from thin air.

A brief glance did not enlighten the young wizard to his opponent's identity, the man's chestnut hair hung in disarray over an unremarkable face, and his build could not be determined as it was obscured by a bulky cloak. Despite his clearly lethal spell repetoir, the anxious expression twisting over his visage was not what Harry had expected when confronting a Death eater.

So, a recruit then huh?

A precise gesture of Harry's wand had a barrage of iron spikes transfigured and flung towards the cloaked man, who strafed slowly towards the closest home, appropriately summoning an opaque grey shield that would block physical attacks. Harry flicked his wand, animating the mailbox next to the cloaked man in an attempt to slow him down a bit, but the wizard hastily blew it to splinters with a negligent blasting curse before transfiguring the pieces into a wooden spear which he flung back towards Harry.

Harry deftly disassembled the spear with a twirl of his wand leaving the splinters floating at eye-level, only for them to converge into several clumps with a thought, blocking the trio of impaling curses the man followed up with. Harry's eyes widened as he saw the cloaked man bring his wand down sharply in a vertical chopping gesture, recognizing the motion from his studies. The modified bludgeoning charm was initially used for prepping the foundations for magical homes, unique in that it struck from above instead of from the caster, _and_ the fact that it lacked the lightshow common to most curses.

Harry dove to the side, cursing as he felt the force of the spell slam down at his previous location. Bringing his wand to bear, Harry peppered the man with weaker concussion hexes to probe his defenses, smirking as the man was thrown off balance by the barrage. The man could deflect spells reasonably well but tended to miss certain ones coming from the side of his non-dominant hand. Harry continued with his volley before weaving a cleaving curse in with his weaker spells. To his satisfaction, his analysis proved accurate; the luminescent blade of navy-blue light sailed across the short distance clipping the man's left thigh soundlessly. The man was not so silent in his reaction, however, letting out a sharp hiss and he sneered at Harry contemptuously.

"'The fuck is Shack?" came Tonks' shout from somewhere over his shoulder where he could hear the clamor of the girls taking on another opponent.

Harry, still engaged with the surprisingly skilled wizard, shivered as an unrelenting chill began to creep along his limbs seeming to freeze the blood in his veins. Knowing time was of the essence, Harry threw finesse out the window launching a steady stream of fire cascading towards the man, seemingly encasing him in a swirling tower of flame.

After a moment flood of water sprung up around the man filling the air with billowing steam as the opposing elements battled for dominance. Harry, having mastered the spell pillar of flame from weeks of repetition was astonished as the fire gushing from his wand sputtered for a moment then promptly died for no apparent reason.

At least until the three observed the stagnant water left over from the Death Eater's defensive water conjuration slowly freezing over in ominous widening fractals.

"Deal wiz' 'ze _cauchemars_ 'Arry, I will cover you," Fleur murmured, clearly trusting Nym to finish off the wizard they had been battling. Fleur's tone was level, remaining calm despite the specters of death gliding ominously towards the five mages, her nerves steeled in the face of opposition. Her glittering eyes, darkened to a navy hue from the overcast weather narrowed in concentration as her rosewood wand danced through their air in graceful arcs, leaving a slight afterimage of its trail.

It was the cloaked wizard Harry had been fighting that tested the validity of Fleur's claim. The man fired off a trio of blood boiling curses that rocketed towards Harry's group. Just as the three wicked spells, a distinctly darker red than the standard stunner, were about to impact their target, a dazzling golden shield sprung into existence in a half dome around their small party, positively _humming_ with power. The spellfire splashed harmlessly into the golden dome as Harry marveled at the magnificent piece of magic, grinning at the charms Fleur could weave if given enough time.

His girlfriend's shield was guarding them from the front while Tonks' opponent was currently grunting incoherently as he was strangled by his own cloak, several limbs pulverized in the short time he was engaged with the vicious witch. Harry holstered his ebony wand and swiftly swapped it with willow, the process aided greatly by the inherent magic of the enchanted holster. His lips quirked into a slight smirk as Harry briefly wondered if the girls would appreciate the memory he used in preparation to cast his patronus. Gently raised his wand, occluding himself from the faint screams that began to echo around his head, he let the love and peace wash over him before speaking the incantation.

" _Expecto Patronum,"_

Casting a patronus was always a particularly cathartic experience, the summoned guardian being the physical manifestation of all one's positive emotions. Harry shuddered at the rush of magic as the silvery mist poured from the tip of his wand before it coalesced into a more solid shape. He briefly toyed with the thought that perhaps this spell that most would consider the pinnacle of 'light' magic could be just as addicting as some of the more insidious spells of the world.

The radiance of Harry's guardian was as brilliant as always, bathing the trio in comforting light, but where Harry expected to see the proud form of Prongs was an entirely different creature, though no less effective at halting the approach of the spindly creatures of death gliding hauntingly towards their location. The creature's ethereal wings flapped noiselessly as it hovered imperiously between its master and his target.

"An owl, Wonderboy? I could have sworn you said your patronus was—"

"—A stag," he murmured, nodding idly as he momentarily pondered the change. But there's time for further reflection later. Harry turned back to where Fleur stood sentry between he and the Death Eater he had been fighting only for his blood to freeze in his veins.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

Apparently, having tried all other means to penetrate Fleur's personalized shield, the remaining Death Eater had resorted the unblockable nature of the killing curse. Harry, prompted by both terror and blinding rage, _slashed_ his wand in an arc across his body, his magic _surging_ in response to his heightened emotion. The roof of a nearby automobile was torn from its frame like paper before soaring into the path of the rushing curse, responding to Harry's vague command to _protect._

The metal and various other materials were shredded by the discharge of energy caused by the killing curse's impact with the inorganic material. However, the impromptu shield served its purpose, and Harry was already moving, transfiguring the shrapnel into writhing chains banishing the lot at the wizard who had _dared_ attempt to kill his bonded.

The man dealt with the chains well enough, intelligently vanishing them to prevent clutter from gathering close to his feet, as one should when facing one as gifted in transfiguration as Harry. The unnamed Death Eater answered with increasingly desperate attempts at delaying his inevitable defeat, seeming to favor keeping his enemies on the defensive with heavy spellfire.

But his strategy proved fruitless, unable to overcome Harry's impenetrable defense, now that he had plenty of material to work with.

The detris swirled around Harry position like a storm, the powerful wizard himself acting as the eye. The cloaked man's spellwork began to grow sloppy, the wizard very obviously winded from the heavy tax the unforgivable took on his magic, not to mention all the other high-level spells he'd been tossing around.

The short skirmish came to a close as two transfigured steel spikes whistled through the air, slipping through the man's defense and embedding with a moist thud in the wizard's shoulder and thigh. The man gave a pained shriek as his dominant arm went slack, effectively disabled by the shock of being impaled. He clumsily tried to defend himself swapping his wand to his offhand but a prodigiously-aimed bone-exploder was sufficient to put the man out of commission, his non-dominant arm now mangled in a bloody mess. His wand, which clattered to the ground as its owner was systematically dismantled, was summoned and pulverized in mid-air with a low-powered _confringo._

Harry promptly stunned the man before restraining him in conjured ropes, thinking it may prove beneficial to have a few surviving Death Eaters to question later. Judging by the fact that Nym didn't comment on his actions it seemed that she was in agreement, despite not showing the same mercy to her own opponent.

It had been a while since he had witnessed her lust for battle, not the healthiest tendency but she was apparently quite selective in her victims, only 'punishing' the _true_ monsters of society. Harry loved her all the same, flaws and all.

"Are you alright?" he questioned, turning back to Fleur as she recovered from the short skirmish.

" _Oui_ 'Arry, 'ze shield was experimental, it took more out of me 'zat I expected." Despite her words, the trace of pride that her engineered charm had performed as expect was evident.

Harry smiled in response, "You ok to go on?"

" _Oui."_ She answered, raising her wand and serenely casting a second patronus to join Harry's own in herding the soul sucking creatures still attempting to circumvent his glowing owl. Fleur's dove joined said owl and began a slow revolution around the two dementors, their empty eye sockets and gaping maws thrown into terrifying relief by the light emitted by the two guardians. The former prison wardens were now ironically the wards, held captive by the power of positive emotions.

Nodding in satisfaction, Fleur turned back to her two lovers and the three fell into step, wands at the ready as they proceeded warily down the street, seeing the telltale flashes of magic unsurprisingly outside of Number Four.

As they approched the site of Harry's childhood residence the three gaped at the changes to the once-pristine home. The windows that he had spent hundreds of hours ceaselessly cleaning were now shattered, littering glass shards over the once-emaculate lawn that his aunt had been so proud of. Harry was filled with a small amount of vindictive pleasure seeing his prison, in both literal and figurative sense, in such a state.

"Tonks! What was the hold up?" called the deep baritone of Nym's coworker and fellow order member Kingsley Shacklebolt. The man was as physically intimidating as Nym had described to Harry and Fleur on several occasions, even crouched behind Harry's uncle's company car as he was, the man would quite clearly tower over all three of them at his full height.

The dark-skinned wizard beckoned the three over, eyes narrowing in response to Tonks' companions. Judging from his reaction he recognized Fleur from her participation in the Triwizard tournament, but Harry's physical changes were enough to fool the veteran Auror for the time being.

It was not as if Harry had any particular reason to deceive the wizard, but he would rather not have to convince the man that he could handle himself in this situation. From Nym's description of her ex-partner's personality, the wizard would do his best to keep someone underaged out of the line of fire. Admirable, in most situations, but in this case such a response would only hinder them due to his ignorance of Harry's actual skill with a wand.

The trio settled next to the man still taking refuge behind Vernon's car.

"What's the sitch', Shack?" Nym chirped, her levity clashing with the dire atmosphere.

"We've got a hostage situation," he intoned professionally, "A squad of cloaked witches and wizards entered the home around five minutes ago. No masks but that doesn't mean much."

"And I'm guessing the Walrus and co. were still inside?" Nym shot back, peering over through the windows of the vehicle towards the house. All seemed calm from the outside, but that confirmed nothing to the Order members.

"Correct," Kingsley answered slowly, quirking an eyebrow at the metamorph's clear distain for the Dursley Patriarch.

"Wards?"

"We've got anti-apparition up, and incidentally none of them have portkeyed out yet. Unfortunately, I do not have the talent with wards to prevent them, and Bill's currently out of the country."

A brief surge of magic was felt from the other witch of the group, as she deftly weaved her wand through the air, tracing the schematics of a ward scheme only visible to her. The oppressive nature of restrictive wards snapping into place was felt by all the wizards within the area as Fleur lowered her wand.

"Just in case," she smiled.

"Many thanks, Miss Delacour, it seems Bill's interest in you was not misplaced," Kingsley said before turning back to Tonks. "Vance is around the back, looking for an opening but we are hesitant to enter for fear of harming the civs."

"Backup?" was Nym's next question.

"We reported the dementors to the Creature Regulation Department at the same time we called the order but either the message was intercepted or simply ignored," He murmured in response. "As for our objective… Dumbledore has been quite insistent that those of us still ah…working for the Auror department do our utmost to remain in such positions," he clarified, not unkindly. "That includes claiming that Death Eaters are attacking a muggle neighborhood, the best I could do was request backup for an instance of muggle baiting but… well you know how _that_ goes."

Harry sighed, resigned to the fact that they would have to rescue his relatives themselves. Horrible people they may be, but they didn't deserve to die, especially since this situation was entirely due to his presence in their lives. He centered himself, reducing Nym and Shack's conversation to muted murmurs, reaching for the unique flow of magic required for this particular spell."

" _Hominum Revelio,"_ Harry incanted, a pulse of magic erupting from his willow wand, returning information to him as it spread, picking out each body within the house like a sonar from the soul.

"Hmm, so five magicals and three muggles eh?" he mused to himself, considering the best way to infiltrate the home. "No wait… _six_ magicals," he grinned, noticing a sixth echo from his revealing spell, significantly smaller than the others.

"Fleur, do you know a ward that can contain animagus?" He queried, excitement mounting.

" _Oui,_ 'zough I 'ave not 'ad time to practice it adequately," she responded, already moving to erect the ward.

Knowing such a response from his perfectionist girlfriend was as good as a guarantee that his request would be granted in seconds, he readied himself for his own part in this rescue mission. As he went to raise his wand, his arm was gripped lightly by Kingsley, prompting Harry to turn to the man with an eyebrow raised.

"Wait! What are you doing?" the man asked.

"Solving our hostage situation," Harry answered, eyeing the man's hand still restraining him. Good intentioned or not, Harry did _not_ appreciate the larger man putting his hands on him. Pulling his arm sharply out of the Auror's grip, turning back to the task at hand, smiling slightly as he heard Nym admonishing the man for his actions as well as guaranteeing Harry's reliability.

§" _Ssserpentssortia,"_ § Harry incanted. The sibilant whispers of the ancient snake language washed over the three observers sending a shiver through all of them, though for varying reasons. Five slender serpents writhed into existence, their bodies patterned with pale blue-grey scales, and startlingly bright red patches at their heads and the tips of their tails.

"Potter!?" Kingsley uttered disbelievingly trying to reconcile the significantly taller and broader young wizard with what he assumed the boy _should_ look like.

Right… almost extinct bloodline ability, he'd almost forgotted that…

"Listen, Auror Shacklebolt, I know you probably want to send me home right now, but according to your Order, _that's_ technically my home," Harry said, indicating the dilapidated building in front of them. "Plus, the fact of the matter is, I can get us out of this situation," he added cheekily.

The man's conscience was visibly battling with the truth of Harry's words, but he eventually acquiesced his point. "Alright, Potter, you're on, but do me a favor and _don't_ get yourself killed, the Order holds your safety as the highest priority," the man rumbled.

"A little _too_ high a priority if you ask me, but thanks for the support all the same," Harry snarked good-naturedly, turning back to his snake conjurations.

Harry had found that snakes summoned with parseltongue not only boasted greater intelligence than those summoned through normal means, but also offered greater control over the specific breeds brought into being. _This_ particular species of coral snake caused near instant full-body paralysis with its potent neurotoxin and would serve his purpose perfectly.

§" _Bite anyone in the houssse with a stick in their handsss."_ § Harry commanded his serpentine scouts. §" _You,_ "§ he said, isolating a single snake with his gaze, §" _Bring me the rat that ssmellss of human. Go now."_ § Harry watched on as they slithered away, disappearing after a moment as they spread out searching for a means to enter the property

Now to wait for the fireworks.

oooOoOoOooo

"Hurry the fuck up on that ward, Selwyn!" Walden Mcnair growled as he paced like a caged beast in front of the battered and restrained forms of the Potter boy's _filthy_ muggle family. His lips curled in disgust at having to share the same air as the subhuman creatures as they whimpered pathetically, prompting the man to plow a booted heel into the largest man's ribcage before silencing him with a negligent wave of his wand. He snarled, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

Everything had gone smoothly at first. After weeks of the administration in charge of Azkaban processing the request, two dementors were transferred from to his Department supposedly to be sent to Little Whinging for the protection of Harry Potter in his summer home. Mcnair had spent the previous weeks probing the lower-ranked Death Eaters seeing if any of them were looking to earn their master's favor. It was easier than one would expect to find six accomplices for his plan.

Eager to take advantage of a possible weakness in the protections around the boy, the squad of seven waited in the general area of the Potter relatives, waiting for the telltale chill of the dementor's presence. It was a simple matter to follow the monsters as they honed in on their target.

The total lack of resistance to the attack as he and his companions finally paced down Privet Drive should have been his first clue that all was not as it seemed, but Mcnair, drunk on the thought of a future as the Dark Lord's right-hand man continued past the row of disgustingly bland homes. Mcnair had been unsure if the presence of the two dementors had rendered the wards over Number Four ineffective but had dismissed the situation as a lucky break.

Quickly erecting an anti-apperation ward, the group had unceremoniously blasted in the doorway before invading the home, ravaging the spotless decorations littering the shelves as they spread out searching for the boy. Having left two of the group down the street as backup with the dementors drifting ominously outside Potter's home, Mcnair had been sure that the boy could not have escaped, yet after searching the entire house, the only spoils of the search had been the gargantuan muggle currently hogtied at his feet along with his horse-faced wife and equally rotund son, all wide eyed and squealing pathetically.

That was when things had gone pear-shaped for the corrupt executioner. Clearly the mission was a flop, the boy was long-gone and despite the small amount of satisfaction tormenting the muggles would give him it was overridden by the dread that began to creep into his veins. After all, Mcnair had directly disobeyed his master's orders to lay low and had nothing to show for it.

Then the first cracks of apperation had sounded, signaling the arrival of the old man's blasted Order, Selwyn had dropped his own anti-apperation ward to allow the Death Eaters to escape, but found that a second one had been layered on top of it, though not under his control. The only positive aspect of the situation was the fact that the dementors, having grown impatient for their promised meal, had begun drifting to find their own sustenance. Perhaps they would serve as a proper distraction.

Which left Mcnair in his current situation, trapped like a caged beast, though he _did_ have hostages at his disposal. Best case scenario his team could escape without anyone being captured and perhaps avoid confirming the veracity of his lord's return. Perhaps _then_ he could avoid being rendered a drooling mess under the Dark Lord's wand. If all else failed, at least he could always pin the blame on smirked, Speaking of Pettigrew _…_

"Hey! Where the hell is the rat!?" Mcnair growled in his intimidating drawl.

"Turned tailed an' ran o' course, what else did you expect?" Selwyn muttered, eyes narrowed as he attempted to crack the apperation ward still preventing their escape.

The man cursed loudly in response before the five death eaters felt the restrictive magic of an anti-portkey ward settle over them, not that it was necessary in the first place, the Dark Lord always personally created portkeys for their raids for this specific reason.

"Fuck! They've got a ward master with them," Selwyn cursed, "I dabble with wards, but this thing's airtight. This aint' looking good Walden."

"Shit! Gibbon what's the situation out back? Gibbon!?" Mcnair turned only to find the man's still body collapsed near the back of the house.

"Right then! The time for subtlety's over!" The man sneered, though internally shaken by the manner in which the man was seemingly downed without cause, despite not caring for the man himself.

" _Excavare!"_ the beastmaster cried, carving out a tunnel to freedom through the south wall of the muggle home, before summoning all his lust for destruction and chaos and began a chant, unique to each caster, that would lead to his grand finale.

 _Beasts of the depths of hell hear my call,_

 _Spread unhampered leaving naught but terror and destruction in your wake,_

 _Sate your ceaseless hunger on the unworthy creatures of this plane,_

As Mcnair continued his otherworldly cadence, he reveled in the feeling of the twisted magic saturating the air, the heat growing to sweltering levels as the truly dark magic grew in strength. The executioner's chant arced to a crescendo as the demonic whispers began to tickle the ears of all those witness of the transcendental summoning.

 _-for nothing can withstand your wicked wrath,_

 _Flames of chaos hear my call!_

 _FIENDFYRE!_

Shivering with the power he had just unleashed, Mcnair directed the demonic firestorm in the general direction opposite from where he had tunneled his escape, unable to control the sentient flames any more than directing the blazing beasts towards the north wall of the Dursley home.

"Are you bloody insane Walden?!" Selwyn choked out through the billowing smoke that was already filling the dry air.

"Move, fool! We don't have much time!" he growled back, shoving the man through the wizard-made tunnel, leaving the bound and gagged muggles as the only living beings left in the burning building.

oooOoOoOooo

Moments earlier Harry and co. had witnessed the right wall of Number Four explode outward, littering the space to the side of the property with debris. Thinking that his snakes had flushed the criminals out of hiding as planned, Harry made to carefully approach the house.

 _But then the magic started building._

The mounting presence was like nothing Harry had ever felt before, suffocating in its figurative weight pressing upon those witness to it, and judging by the reactions of his companions, they were equally as effected.

"That's Fiendfyre, get down!"

Just as Kingley's warning rang out their world exploded in fire. Ash and smoke filled the air, now suffocatingly arid as the left side of the house was decimated by the sprawling, wicked, black and red flaming beasts showing no sign of stopping their chaotic march into the adjacent Number Three. Glancing to his side, Harry gave a start as he saw Nym's agile form slip into his dilapidated former home. Despite the fact that the majority of the demonic fire was currently consuming the house next to the building she had entered, the daring metamorph was entirely too close to them for Harry's peace of mind.

His moment of panic was short-lived however, as the witch exited the house moments later, face covered entirely in soot but otherwise unharmed.

"Why the hell would you do something like that!?" Harry all but screamed at the metamorph as she rejoined the group. So consumed with worry for the witch was Harry that he did not notice the recognizable trio of bodies floating stiffly behind her until she pointed them out herself.

"You would have blamed yourself, Wonderboy," she grinned cockily, "Plus the building was _barely_ on fire."

"You are worse 'zan 'Arry!" Fleur cried, eyes locked with the flames steadily consuming the next house over even while admonishing her lover for her carelessness. "We will speak of 'zis later Nym. We 'ave to try to stop 'ze flames 'Arry," she said, turning back to the young wizard with a determined gaze.

"You can't, Miss Delacour," Kingsley's dulcet tones cut in. "Once unleashed only the strongest of wizards can contain cursed flames. We'd be better off retreating for now"

"'Zen where is 'ze 'eadmaster? You _are_ here on his orders, _oui?"_

"Last I checked he was on his way, but—"

"'Zen we will contain 'zem until he arrives! _Oui?"_

Harry couldn't help but admire Fleur walking all over the powerfully built Auror. But seeing the man give a resigned nod Harry stood, prepared to do his part in containing the destruction. Kingsley moved to establish contact with the other order members in the area while the trio went about their task of restraining the flames.

Fiendfyre behaved like no flame Harry had ever seen before. At the forfront of the ravenous inferno were the sentient monsters clearly eager to devour all they could, though the flame left behind once the demonic presence had passed seemed to be ordinary fire. Certainly burning brighter and hotter than any he had seen before, but lacking the clear sentience that was obvious in the monsterous form currently devouring the home north of the Dursley property.

The three lovers were certainly made for an imposing sight. Harry, flanked by Nym and Fleur stood silhouetted by the blazing inferno as the three prodigious mages attempted to contain the living flames. Reaching out with tendrils his own magic in an attempt to wrest control of the blaze resulted in a barely noticeable difference at which the fire spread. It wasn't until Fleur began pouring her own elemental magic into the equation that the writhing beasts of flame faltered. Sky-blue feathers began sprouting along the veela's arms and shoulders as she further saturated the flames in her power, earning a wrathful screech from a flaming chimaera, turning its ire towards the three magicals, apparently unwilling to be bound to any mere _mortal's_ will.

At first Harry thought they would be successful, at least at halting any further damage done to the neighborhood _._ And won't that be a pleasant experience, he eyed the nosy inhabitants of Privet Drive unsubtly peering through their blinds towards the raging inferno. The obliviators would be spending weeks cleaning up this mess.' Harry could already hear the blaring sirens in the distance, a literal countdown to the time they needed to be gone by. He went to focus once more on containing the flames when a growling shout drew his attention.

"YOU SEE, POTTER?! This is just a small taste of what the dark lord can do! But we can't just have you stopping the flames, now can we?!"

Harry vaguely recognized the Hulking Death Eater, but was more concerned with the wand aimed in his direction. The man brought it down in an overhand slashing motion, before apparating away, the various wards preventing magical travel having been shattered effortlessly by his demonic flames.

For a moment Harry thought the man had missed whatever he had attempted, seeing no visible effects of whatever curse he had flung. That is, until Harry heard the bone-chilling sound of a wet, hacking breath taken by the blond witch by his side, before she collapsed bodily to the ground. The Fiendfyre, freed from its main opposition, raged with a vengeance, but such a thing was trivial to Harry when faced with his fallen bonded, a _jagged_ laceration starting at the corner of her mouth and zigzagging down the length of her neck and past her collarbone. Despite her white blouse remaining whole, the blood _—_ oh circe there was so much _blood—_ spreading across her torso indicated the wound continued _far_ past her collar.

"Fleur! Oh _merlin_ hold on," Harry cried, hands unsteady as he ripped her blouse open to get a better look at the wound his hand immediately stained red in the process. It appeared even worse unobscured by the material, but knowing Fleur's life may hang in the balance he occluded all distractions from his mind, attempting to recall the miniscule amount of healing magic that he knew. Tonks, not knowing much more than himself, stood firm, a sentinel doing her utmost to keep the raging inferno away from her fallen4 comrades.

" _Tergeo,"_ Harry murmured frantically, the oozing wound clearing of blood for a brief moment, but the witch's chest was stained with fresh blood within seconds, its cloying, metallic smell barely a blip on Harry's radar as he attempted another spell. " _Sanguisana,"_ he whispered urgently, hoping the spell to slow bleeding would show better results. "Damn it all!" he cried cupping a cheek and peering into a fluttering blue orb. "You _can't_ leave me! You understand? You _can't!"_

"Harry… we need to move, _Now!_ " Nym grunted under the strain of delaying the rapidly approaching blazing demons.

"We _can't_ leave her!" he cried helplessly, unwilling to leave the downed witch.

"'Arry… you 'ave to go…" came an entirely too _weak_ -sounding voice from below. He could practically hear his heart shatter at the proud witch sounding so broken. Nym, clearly at war with herself as she was forced to choose between the two most important people in her life was nearly at her limit, the snarling fiendish flaming beasts snapping menacingly mere meters away.

The moment in which Tonks lost her struggle with the flames was obvious as she resignedly turned, obscuring her two lovers as best she could with her tiny frame from the ravenous fire.

Harry assumed that it was all over when he felt the flames enveloping his body. But something was wrong, this was not the searing agony of being burned alive by the flames of the devil himself, but a pleasant warmth tickling at his extremities, soothing in indescribable ways. It wasn't until he heard a familiar calming melody echoing around Privet drive that Harry had an idea of what had happened.

There stood the resplendent and towering form of Albus Dumbledore, still bathed in the cloak of phoenix fire remaining from his blazing entrance, single-handedly suppressing the overwhelming force of the rampant Fiendfyre.

"Good evening Nymphadora, it seems I was just in time," The wise wizard said airily, "or perhaps not," he amended, his eyes landing on the lithe form of Fleur still bleeding heavily on the hard asphalt.

"The hell _took_ so long, old man?!" came the frantic cry of the distraught metamorph, having been resigned to a fiery death just moments previously.

"Unfortunately, this was not the _only_ location targeted by Voldemort's soldiers this night," he answered seriously. "But that is neither here nor there. _This_ young lady needs immediate medical attention," he continued, slowly wrenching control over the demonic flames as the screeched, seething at being contained.

"Please sir," Harry implored. "You _have_ to help her!"

"Not to worry, my boy, I'm sure Fawkes will be amenable to taking you all to Headquarters," he said lightly, handing over a slip of paper to the young metamorph.

With a musical screech and a burst of golden flame, the small group of magicals and muggles alike were whisked away, leaving the aged Headmaster alone in his battle with the living flame.

oooOoOoOooo

Landing with a woosh of fire in a gloomy dining room Harry was unable to keep himself from sprawling loudly on the wooden floor next to Nym who had passed out immediately from her struggle with the fiendfyre. He regained his feet swiftly, glancing around for Fleur who was obviously still in critical condition. Luckily Fawkes had managed to lay the mangled witch gently on the long ovular table though a soft land was the least of his worries.

He barely registered the numerous witches and wizards gaping openly at the grisly scene, Fleur's lifeblood still spreading _far_ too quickly through the fabric of her blouse.

"Someone… please," he shouted brokenly gazing around the table, "you have to help her."

To his utter astonishment, it was not one of the various non-combatants that still remained inside the Order's headquarters that offered their aide, but a man with lank hair and a hooked nose, a wizard who had made it his top prerogative to make life hell for Harry over his school years that jumped immediately to begin healing Harry's bonded.

He knelt over Fleur's prone form drawing his wand and gently traced it over the deep wounds caused by the unknown curse, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like a song. The flow of blood _finally_ seemed to ease daring Harry to have hope that Fleur would make it through the ordeal.

"Blood replenishers, Dodge, _now!_ " Snape uttered briskly, breaking the named wizard out of his trance as he bustled off to complete the potion master's request.

"Thank you, Sir… _thank you."_ Harry breathed, the adrenaline pumping through his body finally taking its toll, "I'm in your debt."

Harry missed the brief widening of Snape's eyes before the look shifted back into the blank mask he normally wore.

"You may change your mind of that notion Potter," he responded silkily, somehow recognizing the young wizard despite his physical changes, "This _is_ a curse the Death Eaters learned from myself after all," he clarified, still tracing his wand idly over the laceration.

"And did you invent the killing curse as well sir?" not getting a response Harry continued, "Unless you created every single fatal curse in existence you have nothing to apologize for, and you knowing the counter curse saved her life. I won't forget it," Harry stated, adamant that the debt be repaid.

Snape stood in consideration for a moment before turning back to Harry. "I think you'll find that we are indeed even… Potter," he murmured, relaxing slightly as if a great weight was lifted from his shoulders.

Shrugging and trusting Fleur's health to his potions instructor for the moment, Harry kneeled down to check on the passed out metamorph, sighing in relief finding she had just collapsed in exhaustion. He slumped tiredly against a grimy wall the relief at finally being out of dodge running his fingers slowly through the witch's pale blue hair.

Feeling a bulky lump in his pocket that was not there before, Harry reached curiously into the expanded space only to withdraw his hand just as fast clutching the tail end of a familiar looking snake. Upon pulling the creature completely out of his pocket, snake seemed to _spit_ a furry lump out on to the unwashed dining room floor.

§" _Did I do well massster?"_ § the slender coral snake hissed excitedly, causing many in the room to recoil at the sound.

Picking up the stunned rat by the tail Harry simply let his head thump back against the wall before cackling with a slight bit of insanity at the situation.

Perhaps something good would come of this after all!

 **AN: Ok so this being the first time I've deviated so far from the canon timeline, I'm sure there will be far-reaching consequences that I will miss as I write any subsequent chapters. Please please _please_ point these moments out to me as even though I won't always be able to change them, it's good for me to know any mistakes I've made that effects the continuity of the story. Other than that, let me know what you thought of the more suspenseful moments of this chapter as I have little experience with that kind of thing so far, so any advice is helpful. Thanks for the read, until next time!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Revised: 7/19/2019**

 **AN: Hey guys, sorry I had to delay this chapter so much. I started writing but quickly realized that the chapter would take a significantly longer time to write as there would be a lot more characters to work with while I was unsure of how I wanted to portray them. It's still not quite where I want it but I think it's decent enough for now. I'll also be releasing chapters bi-weekly from now on since weekly updates are too difficult to sustain as this was initially supposed to be a side project. I ended up spending more of my free time on this than some things I consider more important. The good news is this will let me write slightly longer chapters of a better quality. That being said, this chapter is a direct continuation of the last one so I've added in the last paragraphs of chapter 19, enjoy!**

Feeling a bulky lump in his pocket that was not there before, Harry reached curiously into the expanded space only to withdraw his hand just as fast clutching the tail end of a familiar looking snake. Upon pulling the creature completely out of his pocket, snake seemed to _spit_ a furry lump out on to the unwashed dining room floor.

§" _Did I do well massster?"_ § the slender coral snake hissed excitedly, causing many in the room to recoil at the sound.

Picking up the stunned rat by the tail Harry simply let his head thump back against the wall before cackling with a slight bit of insanity at the situation.

Perhaps something good would come of this after all!

…

"Is that who I think it is, Harry?" came the weary tone of Sirius Black, having been uncharacteristically silent since Harry and co. had so unceremoniously dropped in.

Harry swung his gaze over to his godfather, grinning lightly. "I believe you ordered one traitorous rat with a side of revenge, Padfoot?" Harry said, swinging the ball of mangy grey fur back and forth by its tail.

A slightly crazed look flashed through the ex-con's eyes as the sight of Pettigrew's animagus form. As the man visibly restrained himself from lunging across the table, the echoes of the years spent with only the company of Death Eaters and dementors were more evident than ever, despite the fact that Sirius seemed healthier physically than he had the previous year. Reasonable, considering his most common place of residence for those months was a cave on the outskirts of Hogsmead.

A safe house and regular meals seemed to do wonders for the man, as dreary and depressing the place may have been.

Sirius paced around the large dining room table that dominated most of the room, eyes never leaving the still animagus in Harry's hand. As he arrived in front of his godson, Sirius made to grab for the rat, but stopped as Harry held up a hand.

"Hold up, Padfoot, remember we need him alive, as personal as this situation is, Wormtail's testimony is the only thing standing between you and freedom," Harry cautioned, flicking out his ebony wand to weave a small metal cage around Pettigrew's still form.

§"How did you disssable the rat, sssnake."§ Harry queried the grey and blue snake still curled at his feet loyally.

§"A ssmall amount of venom wasss enough to paralyze him massster,"§ the snake answered dutifully, §"Though I believe he was frozen with fear before I even managed to bite him,"§ it hissed out in a reptilian equivalent of a snicker.

Harry nodded in thought, the venom would not kill immediately, but with enough time it could be lethal which would be counterproductive to their goal.

"Sir," Harry said, once again addressing the potions master that had finally deemed Fleur to be past the need for immediate attention after countering the witch's blood loss with the proper potion treatment, "Would you happen to have an anti-venom on you that could counter the effects of the venom from a blue coral snake?"

Harry watched the man's eyes narrow in thought. He had no delusions that Snape wasn't aware of the significance of revealing Pettigrew to the public, but seemed for some reason to hold even more of a grudge for the caged rat resting in Harry's hands. The internal debate seemed to come to a conclusion as the potion master inwardly sighed.

"As much as it pains me to provide my expertise to aide Black," he drawled, "such a simple matter _is_ within my ability."

Harry grabbed at Sirius' shoulder as he went to give a sarcastic reply to his childhood rival before answering himself. "Much obliged, professor," he said lightly keeping a firm grip on his loose-lipped godfather in warning.

Snape raised an eyebrow imperiously at Sirius's silence, silently goading the man, but failing to get a response turned back to Harry. "A sample of the original venom would speed up the process greatly," he said.

A hissed command from Harry to the snake curled around his feet had the reptile obediently slithering up to the potions master, who, to his credit only minutely flinched at the approaching serpent. Harry did not blame the man, as anyone who had spent any amount of time in Nagini's presence had a reasonable excuse to be wary of snakes, Slytherin Alumni or not. A proffered glass vial was cautiously filled with a clear liquid, Snape keeping his practiced fingers out of range of the thin snake hooking a single fang over the edge.

"A bezoar would probably work well enough, but I honestly would prefer to keep him transformed," Harry mused out loud, tapping the cage idly. He observed Snape retrieve a vial from his pocket, probably containing various potions that one a versed in the art would take to carrying on their person, especially considering the man's line of work. The potions master pulled out an eyedropper to mix a sample of already-made cure with the vial of Harry's snake's venom. He peered at the mixture with a practiced eye, searching for some sort of reaction beyond Harry's knowledge in the subject. After a moment Snape seemed as satisfied as a man such as he could manage to look, wordlessly handing over the vial.

"Three drops will nullify the venom in a small mammal, I am sure you will not put them… to waste?" He drawled once more before sweeping out of the room with a swirl of his cloak.

"Well I guess that's that," Harry said, addressing no one in particular. "I think I'll see to getting the girls situated in their room, I'm sure you all want your table back… looks important," he said airily. His exhaustion was catching up with him and Harry found himself leaning heavily on the nearest wall as he rose to his fet.

He gave his wand a twitch leaving Nym and Fleur floating above the floor and table respectively. Harry dropped the caged rat letting it fall for a brief moment before halting its freefall with a yank of his magic leaving it suspended as well. Harry pocketed the vial of anti-venom before standing with a huff ignoring the raised eyebrows at the casual display of magic.

"Room, Pup?" questioned Sirius, finally taking his eyes of the rat and managing to focus on his godson for the first time that night, not that Harry would blame him for it, the rat _was_ the reason the man had spent the better part of his adult life locked away after all.

"Yeah, they won't mind sharing a room," Harry responded idly, once again worried for the two unresponsive witches.

" _Really_ ," Sirius said leadingly, "I wasn't aware my dear cousin even knew this beauty," he smirked, cocking his head towards the floating blonde.

" _Really_ not the time, Sirius," Harry said, eyes narrowing at his self-proclaimed 'Dogfather.' Sirius had hit closer to home than he could have imagined despite the comment in no way being… serious.

"Mr. Potter," called the slightly nasally voice of the man Snape had referred to as 'Dodge' minutes earlier. "Would you not prefer to wait until the Headmaster returns?"

Harry considered the merit of waiting for Dumbledore to return to the Headquarters before leaving for bed. Finding out everything that had happened that night would be helpful, but he doubted the man would be returning anytime soon. Besides the girls needed to be taken care of regardless.

"Thanks for your help with Fleur earlier, Mr. Dodge," Harry started, nodding in thanks to the man. "As for waiting for Dumbledore, I'm afraid you'll be wasting your time waiting here for him. He'll be busy at the ministry for quite some time considering the damage and exposure caused by the fight at Privet Drive alone. The Headmaster hinted earlier that there was another attack occurring simultaneously, I'd be surprised if he makes it here _tonight._ You might as well get some rest." He shrugged tiredly, it didn't really matter either way. After a moment of deliberation, he bent down to allow the tiny coral snake to curl around his arm before striding out of the room, followed by the two witches suspended by the locomotor mortis charm.

"I'll show you where you can crash Pup!" Sirius said, catching up to Harry and clapping a hand companionably on his shoulder. "As you can probably guess this was my old family home, not that it was much of a home," he explained, mumbling the last part petulantly.

"You're preaching to the choir, Padfoot," Harry cut in, trailing his godfather up the staircase constructed of some sort of dark wood, weathered with age. The young wizard blanched as the staircase led to a dimly lit hallway lined with mounted house elf heads, each preserved in a grotesque imitation of the servants they were in life.

"Not the most appealing tradition, eh?" Sirius commented darkly, sneering at the mounted busts.

"Agreed, frankly it's a bit disturbing," Harry said.

"What's disturbing is the little buggers can't _wait_ for the "honor" of being mounted on the wall like some kind of trophy," Sirius responded morosely.

"I can't claim to understand a house elf's devotion to their families. You can stop faking now Tonks," Harry smirked, letting her body drop a few centimeters to the floor with a soft thud.

"Shite! Give a girl some warning, babe!" the metamorph said, flipping up to her feet wobbling slightly as she regained her footing. "What gave me away?" she pouted, hands firmly attached to her hips.

"You should know better than I that the locomotor mortis charm has significantly more drag on conscious bodies," he shot back. "You taught me after all. Tonks rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "One would think you would be more worried about Fleur and I than you would be about getting a little extra sleep," he said jokingly.

"Aphrodite must be fine since you weren't flipping your shit like you were when I blacked out," she said, leaning on him for support while casting a concerned epression towards Fleur's prone form, lingering on the hastily bandaged site of her injury. "Plus it had the bonus of letting me be carried over the threshold to my room, isn't that most girls' dream, Wonderboy?

Nym's act was _almost_ convincing, as typical as her callous words seemed, Harry did not miss the conspicuous tremor in her limbs as she clung to him like a human koala. There was no need to call her on her bluff, so Harry just gave the trembling witch as much comfort as she needed, leading her slowly towards the room Sirius indicated.

The man in question had a wide smile splitting his face, stormy grey eyes lit with curiosity at their interaction.

"I'll let you off the hook tonight since you clearly have your priorities," started leadingly, eyeing the two witches under Harry's care. "But it seems like you were _Sirius_ about making this summer special in more ways than one, eh, Pup?" he finished, taking in Harry's significantly improved physique and other physical changes.

"I'll give you a bit more insight into my summer tomorrow, Padfoot, "Harry promised, leading Fleur into the indicated room, Tonks still having not left his side.

"By the way Harry," Sirius said, causing the young wizard to pause in the doorway. "The Weasley's have been coming over during the days to help clear out some of the bedrooms so they could move in since HQ is the safest place to be. We just recently finished so they'll most likely be here to stay tomorrow morning, and your friend Hermione has been with them for a couple weeks, so she'll probably be coming along as well. Molly's been quite adamant that Ron and Hermione in particular are eager to see you."

"Strange way of showing it," Harry mused lightly, thinking back on the vague and infrequent letters he'd received from them over the summer. He couldn't quite bring himself to resent the pair as he'd had the greatest summer of his life despite the lack of genuine contact from them. Fleur and Nym had taken up most of his focus lately anyway. He hoped that his friendships would survive in spite of the intensity of Harry's fairly new and exciting relationship. There was no point in worrying about it until the next day...

"Thanks for the heads up, Padfoot," Harry smiled, backing into the room.

"I'd offer to show you where you were supposed to be rooming with Ron but something tells me that's no longer needed." The man grinned, some of the rouguish looks he'd had in his youth becoming more pronounced as he happily jibed his godson.

"See you tomorrow, Sirius," Harry responded pointedly, closing the door with a click.

"Nym, can you get Fleur into something more comfortable?" Harry murmured into the witch's ear.

"Mhmm," she nodded, extricating herself from his body. A deft flick of the metamorph's wand had Fleur lying in a pair of comfortable white cotton shorts and a loose T-shirt, leaving the veela's long, curvaceous legs on display.

Ignoring the view for the moment Harry strode over to a drawer along the wall opposite the bed, floating the cage with the unconscious Pettigrew over to rest on the flat surface. It was a simple matter to drip three small drops of the antidote into the rat's open mouth before charming the cage unbreakable and applying a one-way silencing charm to prevent the rat from overhearing any sensitive information. Harry conjured a small cloth to drape over the cage for good measure, having the betrayer in the same room was bad enough, he didn't want to see or be seen when the rat recovered from his paralysis. He let the snake currently wrapped around his forearm slither down to curl protectively around the cage after a hissed command. He'd have to give the snake a name if it wasn't going to disappear any time soon.

Perhaps permanence was another perk of using a snake conjuration charm in Parseltongue…

Harry strode over to the bed where the blonde witch laid, gently running the back of his forefinger along the evidence of the curse she had taken earlier. A thin line of discoloration, slightly raised from the rest of her flawless skin ran along the path of where the curse had struck, a permanent reminder of what the trio faced when combating those that threatened to take away their livelihood.

Had such an event occurred earlier in the year, Harry had no doubt that he would have taken the blame entirely on himself disregarding the circumstances entirely. A more experienced and mature Harry Potter could recognize the folly of that path. The fact of the matter was, they had _all_ been careless, and despite the fact that coming to the aide of the Order had been a necessary risk, they would need to be more vigilant about defending themselves in the future.

He felt Nym return to his side, slipping a smaller hand into his own as she melded once more to his side, apparently having slipped into a similar pair of shorts while he was distracted.

"I thought I was going to lose you two today," Nym murmured into his chest, "To be honest, I've never been so terrified."

Harry wrapped an arm around the smaller witch giving her shoulder a supportive squeeze before responding. "We were careless, that was a situation that should have been avoided," he said, pulling out his wand to transfigure the two smaller beds into a single king-sized mattress. "We'll have to learn from it, I only hope that Fleur isn't condemned in any way for having such a scar, I'm sure the majority of veela culture goes over my head so I just don't know." He said, shaking his head helplessly.

Nym laughed lightly, "Harry, do you find Fleur any less beautiful now?"

"Of course not!" he responded vehemently, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind.

"Then she will not care, _regardless_ of anyone else's reaction," Nym said, chuckling at his disbelieving look. "Harry," she sighed in exasperation, "Aphrodite _adores_ you," she said, her shimmering violet eyes imploring him to believe her, "and _I_ don't think you're too bad either," she smirked. "As long as you still love her it will not matter."

Nym pulled Harry down to the soft covers next to their resting girlfriend, vanishing his clothes down to his boxers as the damage they had sustained was past the point of being salvagable. He laid down next to Fleur, Nym curled up next to him as he wrapped and arm around the smaller witch.

He let himself admire the room for the first time, taking in the various unmoving posters of motorbikes, and scantily clad women riding them. Apparently Sirius had seen fit to give the trio his old room for some reason; Harry suspected the walls having not been cleared of their decorations was no mistake, most likely Padfoot's idea of a practical joke. There was also a window and a single door next to the dresser that most likely lead to an attached bathroom. The rest of the room, including the bedding was all blatantly styled after the Gryffindor dorms, the red and gold color décor a silent protest made by Sirius to reject the upbringing of the Black family in his early years.

"Sirius sure had a certain precociousness to him, even as a kid," Nym laughed, snuggling further into Harry's side. "Do you know what you want to tell everyone about us?" she queried after a comfortable pause.

"Like, _us_ us?" Harry clarified before pausing in consideration for a moment, "Well, we can tell them whatever you want, I see no reason to hide our relationship unless it will cause you trouble at work?" He said, phrasing the last part as a question.

She paused in consideration. "Legally we're fine, but it's not like I _want_ to be in the prophet any time soon. Not unless it's for kicking arse," she clarified.

"We'll have to speak with Fleur once she's up again. I can't help but think I've forgotten something," he said, toying with his lip between his teeth in thought.

"Mmm?" Nym responded drowsily, already drifting off.

"Nevermind, I'm sure it'll come to me eventually," he sighed, "It couldn't have been _that_ important."

oooOoOoOooo

The first vestiges of light began to stream through the lone window of Sirius's old bedroom beginning to draw Harry out of his slumber. That is not to say that the light was indicative in any way of the actual time of day, there was no physical way for this particular room to actually be in direct sunlight after all. Such enchantments were taken for granted for the most part in ancient manors such as their current residence. Perhaps this was Sirius's preferred time to wake up during the summers while he was still living at Grimmauld place.

Thoughts for the future.

Drifting in a state between dozing and conscious it wasn't until Harry felt the familiar feeling of being watched that he regained full awareness. Cracking open his eyes, he was met with two crystalline pools of blue, gazing at him as if he were the last man on earth. The scene made for an extremely cathartic moment, temporarily washing away the taint of the memory of his lover cursed and bleeding out in front of him, suffocated by his own feeling of helplessness.

"Good morning, 'Arry," she said softly, one cheek squished slightly by the pillow currently propping her head up. The love in her gaze was obvious, but seemed to be paired with another emotion, more difficult to identify. Hesitance? Regret? Whatever it was that was causing the tension in his lover's frame, it needed to be fixed. It pained Harry to know that Fleur was still uncomfortable for some reason after going through such a trying ordeal already.

Perhaps Nym had a point _?_ Considering the brief conversation they had the previous night it would make sense for Fleur to be feeling a bit self concious. He could feel the metamorph in question tangled in his own legs while she sprawled haphazardly across the mattress, business as usual on that front. Harry's current priority however, was the witch still staring intensely into his eyes with a longing he would struggle to match. Trusting Nym's judgement on the matter Harry took a chance to convey his feelings on the matter without words.

The young wizard rolled over slowly, careful not to jostle the still recovering witch, framing her body with his limbs as he hovered inches over her pale pink lips, looking enticingly soft from his vantage point. After a moment to take in his lover's delicate features, Harry slowly lowered himself, tickling Fleur's nose as he exhaled through his own, lightly brushed his lips along the corner of Fleur's, mindful of any tenderness in the area. He languidly traced the full length of the already-faint scar with soft kisses, inwardly marveling at the durability of those of magical blood.

The magic reverberating between the bonded pair was practically tangible as Harry silently reassured the witch that he would _always_ desire her in mind body and magic. It wasn't as if he could actually _hear_ the witch's thoughts, but general impressions, or moods seemed to trickle through. Regardless, he was getting the impression _now_ that he had made the right choice as Fleur ran her fingers through his hair at the crest of his head, seemingly taking great pleasure in the action if her satisfied hums were anything to judge by. Harry slipped a hand under the witch's loose shirt and brushed a finger teasingly over a nipple, earning a soft gasp and a giggle for his efforts.

Harry was hesitant to continue his ministrations to avoid any unneeded stress to his still-recovering lover, but it seemed that _she_ had no qualms on that front, guiding him back to her lips once more. The pair would probably have continued had they not heard the distant pounding of several people ascending the staircase not far from their room.

"Here come the cavalry," he sighed, nuzzling into Fleur's neck before rolling off the bed to search for his shirt. Remembering with a flash of irritation that Nym had vanished the majority of his clothes the previous night he flicked out his ebony wand to transfigure a simple cotton t-shirt out of a spare towel hanging on a rack by the door.

"Come _on_ Ron! You _heard_ what Sirius said, Harry's in the third room on the second Floor, that's this door right here!"

Hermione's particular voice was quite distinctive, especially when she was in the middle of a lecture, and despite missing his friend dearly, it wasn't the most welcome sound at what Harry assumed was sometime early in the morning.

"You don't wake a bloke up early in the summer Hermione—"

 _Thanks for trying, Ron…_

"—that's what Hogwarts is for," came the answering grumble through the door.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Ron, not _all_ of us have your horrendous sleeping habits. Besides, It's not like he'll be busy at 9am."

Harry snorted at the oh-so-very typical interaction between the two friends, preparing for the inevitable knock on his door. It turned out that Hermione wasn't feeling very charitable concerning his personal space, as she bypassed knocking altogether and barged right in, protesting redhead in pursuit.

"Harry! It's so wonderful to s—H…Harry?!" the witch choked out, apparently trying to reconcile the reasonably tall, and quite fit wizard in front of her, with the friend she had parted with a month ago.

"You know, Hermione," he said wryly, pulling the hastily transfigured shirt over his head, "you _really_ should heed Ron's warning for these kinda things, four years in a dorm shared with four other blokes means he probably has a better idea of what we could get up to."

The witch's already overly-curly hair seemed to fluff up even more in embarrassment, for once unable to come up with a retort. Though whether that was due to the situation in general or her shock at the physical changes had gone through. He would guess at the latter, based on how her eyes raked over the hard planes of his torso, still evident even through the thin material of his shirt. Interesting, considering the witch had never shown any romantic interest in him before, but it seems the greater attention he now tended to pay to his appearance had actually caught her eye.

Hermione wasn't without change either, sporting a healthy looking tan, indicative of a summer spent in leisure, and had grown noticeably curvier despite the brief time they had spent apart. Harry had to admit that she was indeed growing out of the stereotypical bookish academic look and into a beautiful young woman. Of course noticing his friend was pretty was just an observation, and didn't hold a candle to the profound connection he shared with both of the witches currently sharing his bed.

Speaking of Nym and Fleur…

"And what kind of things _did_ you get up to in the Gryffindor dorms, Wonderboy?" Nym drawled from over his shoulder through a yawn, disregarding her partial nudity entirely despite their current guests.

Harry thought back for a moment before realizing how his wording could perceived. "You know very well Nym that _that's_ not what I meant," he shot back sardonically, rolling his eyes as he turned back to his two friends, both of whose attention were now on the two witches that had previously gone unnoticed. Though now that Harry was paying proper attention, Ron's attention was latched firmly on Fleur and her slightly less revealing sleepwear. Harry was quite sure Fleur's control over her allure was even more ironclad than the last time she had met the redhead, so his blatant stare was entirely of his own choosing. It seemed like Fleur had come to the same conclusion as she pulled the bedsheets up to preserve her modesty and gave the redhead a cool stare. Harry let a bit of frost enter his tone as he spoke to his two younger friends.

"Despite Nym's total lack of modesty—"

"Aww c'mon!"

"—perhaps there is a better time or _place_ ," he said, indicating the fact that they were half dressed and still in his bedroom, "to have this conversation." Harry smiled to take the heat out of the admonishment.

"Bloody hell mate! You… and she… Bloody _hell_!" sputtered Ron, eloquent as usual, finally tearing his eyes away from the two witches.

"You certainly 'ave a way wiz' words, _Monsieur_ Weasley" Fleur said sarcastically.

Hermione seemed to have come back to her senses as she realized how she had barged into his room and what situation she could have potentially interrupted.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Flushing lightly, she turned abruptly, yanking Ron along with her, only to pause at the doorway for a final comment.

"We will talk later…right Harry?" she questioned, uncharacteristically timid for the normally insistent girl.

"Of course, Hermione," he answered politely, curious at her lack of immediate questions, or at least a demand to answer her questions in the future. It was almost as if she was wary of him, as if he were a time bomb about to go off. Perhaps she'd been regretting her lack of communication over the summer, he thought, closing the door behind the pair already hearing muted bickering through the door. Or she was at least fearful of his reaction _,_ he amended after some consideration.

When Harry really thought about it, such an expectation wasn't entirely unreasonable of the girl. If this summer had followed the usual trend of several weeks of misery under the Dursley's tender care, he would be quite put-out at the lack of communication from his best friends. However, the reality was quite the opposite, Harry's summer so far had been the best of his life, spent in the company of two wonderfully unique witches, his days filled with rediscovering the wonders of magic and living life to the fullest. _That_ , in addition to his significantly cooler temperament, both due to his studying Occlumency as well as ridding himself of the taint of Voldemort's horcrux, had Harry feeling nothing but a mild irritation at the lack of meaningful contact from his friends. Hopefully the distance between them could be mended, but if it wasn't to be, Harry was quite content with his current company.

 _Speaking of current company,_ Harry grinned, turning back to the two witches that had just vacated the king-sized mattress. Nym was currently flitting around Fleur who had managed to stand up slowly on her own, though still fairly unstable, helping the taller witch out of her sleepwear.

"Any pain, Fleur?" Harry murmured as he closed the distance between them in two steps.

"I _am_ still somewhat sore," she admitted, brushing a couple seemingly well-manicured fingers over her blemished skin self-consciously.

"I'd be surprised if you weren't, Aphrodite, you took a right nasty curse there," Nym said softly, carefully helping the veela remove the oversized shirt they had transfigured for her the previous night. "Who _did_ end up healing her anyway?" she asked, turning to Harry, "For a second there, things weren't looking so good," she finished, pecking her girlfriend lightly on the scarred side of her mouth, earning a grateful smile from the blonde witch.

Harry stood for a moment admiring Fleur's perky breasts gracing his eyes with their perfection. Harry was glad to see a devilish smirk from the girl in question, happy that she was still proud of her body, despite now sporting what some would consider a flaw.

She was as astonishingly beautiful as always in Harry's eyes, a fact made evident as he trailed his eyes over her lithe form now clad in only a modest pair of cheeky panties. The thin material only served to heighten her appeal, managing to pull off a look of purity and innocence that an alluring witch such as herself should be entirely incapable of.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Harry asked distractedly, earning snickers from both women.

"Who. Healed. Aphrodite." Nym said after a moment of laughter at his expense, punctuating each word for emphasis.

" _Oui,_ I must know 'oo to 'zank," Fleur said, nodding in agreement.

"It was Snape," Harry said simply, earning conflicting reactions from each witch.

"What!?" Nym immediately blurted, "I guess the bat really knows his stuff," she added, tapping a finger over her lips in thought. Fleur merely nodded at the information.

"'E is not 'ze most pleasant man but I will 'ave to 'zank 'im for 'ze assistance. 'E may 'ave saved my life after all." She paused in consideration for a reason unknown to the two other occupants of the room. Fleur slid gracefully back onto the bed, unable to stand for too long.

"A life debt often had unfortunate consequences for veela in the past and though it is less common in this era it's still something our people consider," She said, voicing her thoughts for Harry and Nym.

"Luckily, I am already bonded," Fleur continued, shooting a loving smile towards Harry, "So I 'ave _some_ insurance against untoward advances. But I am unsure of 'ze particular effects of a life debt for an already bonded veela, as I was skeptical 'zat I would meet my mate at 'ze time," she finished, smiling self-deprecatingly at her own hubris.

Harry waved away her explanation. "I don't think it's going to be a problem, I uh… may have taken on the debt myself already," he said, smiling sheepishly.

" _'Arry!_ You 'ave to consider 'ze consequences on 'zese kinds of 'zings!" Fleur said worriedly.

"I know!" he grieved, "but you were bleeding out in front of me Fleur! I've never been so terrified in my life!" Harry's eyes shone with empathy and the young wizard could still feel echoes of the absolute terror pulsing through his veins the previous night as his life partner's life slowly slipped away.

Her gaze softening, Fleur patted the bedding next to her, unable to physically pull him on her own. As he moved to sit next to her she slipped a hand into his own, brushing a thumb lightly over the back in comfort. Harry sighed as his agitation slipped away under his girlfriend's ministrations, feeling Nym slide into the spot opposite her girlfriend, sandwitching Harry in the middle in their usual position.

"I am sorry, _mon amour,_ I did not mean to badger you," she said softly.

" _Merlin,_ Fleur, you have nothing to apologize for," he responded, "I didn't say that to make you guilty, heavens knows that you've been through enough already," he finished earnestly. "What I _meant_ is that I was emotional and Snape literally snatched you from the brink of death and I was as grateful as I've ever been so it just came out." Harry paused as his explanation was absorbed by the girls, before clarifying an important point.

"But like I was saying, I offered to make good on the debt, and Snape said we were already even, but I'm not exactly sure what he meant."

Nym took this moment to add her two pence, "Life debts are a murky subject," she lectured, hopping off the bed to pace comically. "Like most magic they are fairly reliant on the intent and will of both the witch or wizard to whom the debt is owed, as well as he or she who owes the debt." She paused in her pacing, "If the bat said you were even, that's most likely the case, he was either in a charitable mood, or owed you for something he considered of equal worth to the debt itself."

"My bet's on the latter, though I'm grateful for the pass regardless " Harry laughed, slipping an arm lightly around Fleur's waist reveling in the familiar feel of the witch's magic, tangibly regaining its usual luster as she recovered from her injuries.

"I assume we are in 'ze Order's Headquarter's, _non?"_ Fleur commented, the thought seeming out of nowhere.

"Yeah, my godfather's old family home according to the man himself," Harry answered, pleased at the thought of spending more time with Sirius in person.

"So your friends will be staying 'ere for 'ze time being?"

"Mhmm, the entire Weasley family as well and probably some of the order members right?" he said, tilting his head questioningly at Tonks.

"I'll work on warding our room as soon as I am finished wiz' a shower," Fleur said, sniffing imperiously as she rose gracefully despite her weakened state. Fleur paused at the door of the adjoining bathroom, turning back to them with a sultry stare, "I will probably need 'elp washing myself," she teased, before slipping into the bathroom.

Harry and Nym turned to face each other blankly before they both scrambled after the alluring blonde, Nym shoving him bodily onto the bed with a cackle as she passed him on her way to the bathroom.

She was just _that_ passionate about helping those in need.

Really.

oooOoOoOooo

Despite the implication of something more, Harry and Nym did not progress past some gentle caresses while aiding their still-recovering lover in the shower. Though considering the extremely spacious bathroom and equally large shower Harry was determined to revisit the situation when Fleur was in better health. Having been too tired or otherwise incapacitated the previous evening the three were relieved to finally cleanse themselves of the taint of their battle, as well as reveling in the intimacy of bathing together after such a harrowing experience.

The three returned to their shared room finally clean and relaxed from the hot water, Fleur pouting cutely at her two companions. The witch's control over her allure was noticeably slipping, washing over Harry's magic due to being teased so thoroughly throughout the morning.

"Don't worry, babe, I'll take care of you tonight, I promise," Nym purred teasingly. The sentiment seemed to placate the witch momentarily as she sat gently back onto their bed with a huff.

Harry ended up calling Dobby to transport his trunk and some of the girls' clothes and other possessions into their room in Grimmauld place while Fleur wove a locking enchantment on their door, careful to avoid tampering with the complex wardwork protecting the entirety of the ancestral Black home. He informed Dobby that they would most likely be staying at Grimmauld place for the time being, as well handing off a caged Pettigrew with orders to keep him alive and locked away until further notice.

Harry hopped down into the expanded space of his rosewood trunk, ignoring the modest collection of books that had accumulated over the summer and pulled out a pair of grey joggers and a plain black t-shirt.

The three had decided they would be spending a healthy amount of the summer in order HQ both for safety and for better access to information concerning the war, however, Harry was quite aware that something would need to be done concerning his place of residence on a more permanent basis. Fleur had never hidden the fact that her small flat was only a temporary situation while she was working at Gringotts and though Harry had never voiced his opinion out loud, he hoped that whatever their plans for living situation may be, that it would include the three of them together, preferably somewhere with easy access to Hogwarts.

Harry hoped that the girls would be receptive to some of his ideas; the fact that Nym had practically moved in already with he and Fleur was evidence of how fond she was of her own run-down apartment in muggle London. He would be sure to bring up the subject at some point in the near future, the day he would have to leave the two to go to Hogwarts was looming closer after all.

Harry emerged from the depths of his trunk to find the girls already dressed and ready for the day. Apparently they had taken the same casual approach to their dress having no plans to the leave the house, though it was hard to tell in Nym's case; _I bet she wouldn't hesitate to wear those same sexy cutoffs and band shirt under her Auror robes while she was still on the force._ He smiled briefly at the thought, noting that Fleur had donned a light blue sundress, most likely since it would be so easy for her to wear and remove. Regardless of her reasoning, the thin material was still extremely flattering on her.

"Shall we?" Harry said with a smile, for lack of any other pressing matters. Fleur and Nym joined him in his trek through the house as they made their way towards the dining room.

As the trio descended the dark staircase into the sitting room they were met with the sound of an unholy shriek piercing through the house.

"MUGGLES! DESECRATING THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK! NEVER IN ALL MY YEARS WOULD WE LET SUCH VERMIN TAINT OUR WALLS! BLASPHEMUS BLOOD TRAITORS! BETRAYERS OF YOUR OWN KIND—"

The portrait responsible for the infernal racket seemed like it would have continued its agitated rant indefinitely had Harry's godfather not forced the curtains on either side of its frame over the screeching witch. The curtains were clearly enchanted as the noise immediately cut out as soon as the dark cloth covered the witch's hate-filled visage. There _must_ have been _some_ reason why such a caustic portrait was still hanging, especially considering the hateful glare Sirius had fixed on the covered wall, but it was the three bodies situated together on the couches that was the most likely catalyst for the shrill screaming so early in the morning.

So that's what he'd forgotten!Harry eyed the Dursley family looking entirely out of place crowded together surrounded by such a blatantly magical manor house. He hadn't really considered the implications of bringing his family along when vacating Privet drive the previous night, but now that they were here it seemed he would be playing a part in deciding their fate, a position he had intended to avoid at all costs. Harry only hoped his acerbic uncle would behave himself for the most part, but he had his doubts.

"An acquaintance of yours, Sirius?" Harry spoke up, gaining the attention of the entire room, including several older Order members whose names he did not know, as well as Hermione and the two youngest Weasley's loitering around the door to the dining room.

"My dear old mother, disapproving of my life decisions even from the afterlife" the man sneered, he and the matron of house black having apparently never seen eye to eye.

"Boy! I knew this whole mess would come back to you and your _freakish_ kind!" Came the vulgar accusation of his uncle, his pudgy face turning its signature purple hue as his anger boiled over. The various members of the Order that had yet to enter the dining room were all silent at the aggression showed by the Boy who lived's relatives, and possibly the first seeds of doubt at the boy's living conditions being sowed in their minds.

Harry glided down the remaining stairs to place a calming hand on his godfather's shoulder, whose teeth Harry could practically hear grinding together.

"Despite our downright hostile relationship, uncle Vernon, I don't entirely disagree with you in this case," drawled Harry, turning back to his 'family,' "You're correct that you were attacked pretty much entirely because I spent the majority of my childhood in your… _tender_ care, but if you had heeded Fleur's warning this wouldn't have been a problem in the first place," he finished, tilting his head towards his girls where Nym was helping the veela in question down the stairs.

The particular moment in which the Dursley's recognized the witch he had indicated was obvious. All three nonmagicals gave a collective flinch away from the statuesque woman that had finally reached the bottom of the stairs. To Harry's surprise, Vernon's reaction was the most pronounced of the three; turning back to his girlfriend he cocked an eyebrow in question.

"What did you _do_ to him?"

"Apparently not enough, if 'ze man's behavior just seconds ago is any'zing to judge by," she sniffed, looking down on the man as if he were dirt on her shoe. Vernon twitched noticeably, leaning even further away from the witch.

"Harry…" started Hermione, speaking up for the first time. "Are you going to introduce us?" she finished, eyeing the family of nonmagicals without judgement. The girl truly saw the good in everyone but Harry feared even her organized and ambitious personality would not make up for her "freakishness" in the eyes of the Dursleys.

"Hermione, I know I've never really spoken about my home life before, but I'll be honest with you. They _really_ don't care about any friends I've made in the magical world. And even _more_ importantly, anyone who I consider a friend, I care about _too_ much to expose them to my so-called 'family'." The matter-of-fact manner that Harry's statement was presented in was chilling to those observing, and those close to the young wizard were particularly sympathetic as they witnessed his total lack of emotion when dealing with the people that were supposed to be caring for _him_.

"You ungrateful wretch! We sacrificed everything for y—"

Apparently Vernon could not quite keep his mouth shut despite being surrounded by the people he was so determined to hate. Harry however, was fixed in the belief that he should see to his family being relocated without harm, and that included being torched by either of his girlfriends, hence the necessity of the wordless silencing charm to prevent his uncle from digging his own grave. Some of the adult Order members still in the room marveled at the impressive draw speed of the boy who they were told needed protecting, while others, (primarily those under the age of majority) were more focused on his casual use of magic.

"Harry! You can't use magic outside of school! You could get in serious trouble especially with how they've been slandering you in the Prophet!" Hermione, always one to follow the rules was the first to speak up about his blatant disregard for the use of underage magic laws.

Though she meant well, her admonishment lacked her usual logical thought process, or perhaps she was just misinformed of the reasoning and logistics behind the trace itself. Harry decided to enlighten her, hoping that the lure of new information would reduce her ire at him somewhat.

"Hermione, do you know _how_ underage magic is tracked in the first place?" he said, smiling as he witnessed her incensed expression morph into one of hesitant curiosity.

"I _have_ read about it before, however most sources simply state that the trace is a way to keep track of underage magic, they never detail _how_ it's done," the brunette huffed, pouting at being denied information.

Harry purposefully drew his willow wand due to its similar appearance to his old holly wand, despite the wood having more of a reddish tinge to it. He would prefer to delay having to explain where he had his wands crafted as long as possible, and he was sure Nym's adoptive uncle would appreciate the anonymity as well. Seeing he had Hermione's attention he began his explanation.

"So, most wands have the trace applied when they are created, allowing the ministry to track instances of underaged magic," he began, making an example of his own wand held in a gentle grip. "I'm not certain on the details of the enchantment itself, Fleur could probably explain it better than I, but I _do_ know that It has several loopholes, or perhaps it was intentionally made this way to facilitate practice while out of school."

"What are you talking about Harry? What loopholes!?" Hermione queried

"The enchantment recognizes magic cast within a certain distance of the traced wand, but can't pinpoint _who_ exactly cast a spell, for example, a house elf casting a hover charm in range of a traced wand," he said, alluding to his experience in the summer before his second year.

Hermione was nothing if not quick witted and immediately understood the reasoning behind the incident, "That makes sense why you were blamed for that then, unfair as it may have been, but I don't understand how that relates to you not worrying about the magic you just did now," she mused, chewing her knuckle in thought.

Harry leaned against one of the sitting room couches not occupied by the Dursleys "Right, so like I said, the enchantment can't tell who is casting the magic, so if another magical that is of age is within the range of the trace, instead of creating an entirely new complex system to determine if the law has been broken or not, they ignore instances of underage magic within range of adult witches and wizards." He finished with a shrug then, unable to resist a bit of theatrics flicked his wand sending various objects into an orbit around the room. "I can cast all I want as I have several adult wizards within range to nullify the trace triggering," he smirked at his friend's gobsmacked expressions, though whether they were in response to his wordless magic or the explanation itself was yet to be determined.

"But…but that's entirely unfair!" Hermione finally choked out after a moment of gaping, immediately grasping the implications of such a loophole. "You're telling me that I spend hundreds of hours studying to be top in our class at school and the so-called purebloods are all spending their summers getting ahead of me while I'm stuck unable to do _any_ magic!? And how did you _do_ that?!" Years of experience being Hermione's friend had Ron intelligently edging away from the irate witch as she fumed at the injustice of it all.

"She 'as a point 'Arry, it really is an 'orrid law" said Fleur as she glided to his side and slipped a hand into his. Apparently as a fellow academic she could empathize with the brunette's plight.

"Oh, I agree entirely," Harry said, running his thumb over the back of her hand, "I definitely think the law should be clear about magic being ok to practice with proper supervision and not rely on vague loopholes to decide how one can get away with avoiding the trace."

"Mum is always really strict about not letting us do magic at home," Ron added after seeing Hermione calm down a bit, "though dad sometimes let us try out some charms when mum wasn't around," he amended with a slight grin, Ginny nodding in agreement. The youngest witch in the room was subtly eyeing Fleur with distaste though she made no overt attempts at hostility so Harry dismissed it as a lost cause for the moment.

"I won't lie and say some families don't take advantage of the way the law is enforced, Hermione, but let's be real for a second, they aren't using the extra time to get ahead of you, they're using it to catch up," he said, Happy to get a smile from his friend at the compliment. "Plus, for once the law has nothing to do with blood purity," Harry said to clarify.

Seeing Hermione's skeptical glare he alaborated, "No, really! Think about it like this, century old purebloods, first generation magicals and anyone in between are all capable of supervising their children during their time outside of school, however, that poses a problem in cases of the first magicals born in their families having no adult witch or wizard to supervise them. The ministry's concern is a valid one in this case to be honest, imagine miscasting a transfiguration on yourself with no one to help you revert the change, what would you do?" he asked rhetorically.

"Oh," she said suddenly, "you're in the same situation aren't you? I forget sometimes," she said sweeping her gaze over to the still silenced relatives of her friend. Harry being straightforward and logical in his rationale was something Hermione had not witnessed in her friend before, and experiencing it for the first time seemed to bring her up short. But with the way she eyed Fleur and Nym, it was apparent she already had an idea of what catalyzed the change.

"Mhmm I've given it some thought," Harry admitted, "I had originally planned to spend some time in Diagon Alley this summer to get in some practice but a more uh… alluring offer was made so I ended up scrapping that plan."

"You should be ashamed of _that_ one Wonderboy." Teased Nym as she strolled up to flank his other side unconsciously.

"It really _was_ quite 'orrible 'Arry," Fleur mused.

"…Never let me have my fun," Harry mumbled childishly, though one would only have to look to see the happiness in the young wizard's eyes as he was surrounded by his lovers. It was the first time Hermione and the younger Weasleys had seen him so genuinely happy and were curious at what had caused such a change in his demeanor, two having a better idea than the third thanks to their impromptu meeting earlier that morning.

"So, shouldn't you be more careful about who you do magic around if you are knowingly avoiding the law then?" Hermione asked, keeping the group on topic, while eyeing both the few order members still trickling into the Dining room and the various objects still revolving around the room.

"Hermione," he said seriously. "Do you know where we are right now?"

"Number twelve Grimmauld Place," she answered dutifully.

"Which is…"

"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix? At least according to the paper Mr. Weasley had with him," she said, not seeing where Harry was going with the line of questioning.

"Right, so we're currently surround by members of the Order of the Phoenix, a _vigilante group_ that works entirely outside of the law in order to combat Voldemort's civil war. Any ministry employees here aren't going to be worried about underage magic laws since they're already breaking dozens of laws themselves for leaking classified information to the Order," he said, smirking slightly at some of the shifty expressions of some of the Ministry workers he had called out.

"Bahahah! Well said, Potter! We've got a war to fight and we wouldn't be here if following the ministry was our best chance of survival eh?" The speaker had a growling voice that was quite familiar to the Hogwarts students in the room, and orginiated from the direction of the front door.

Harry's wand seemingly appeared in his hand as he spun around to level it at the gnarled visage of Alastor Moody, the tip humming with barely restrained magic.

Seeing the towering frame of Albus Dumbledore standing next to Moody in the hallway leading to the front door, Harry relaxed his stance somewhat, but still kept his wand aimed at the pair.

"Harry! What are you doing? That's the _Headmaster_ ," Hermione said earnestly as she lightly attempted to tug his arm down, flushing slightly as she felt the corded muscle of his arm resist her urgings.

"You'll have to forgive me, Hermione, the last time I heard that voice the man tried to kill me," Harry said darkly. "The only thing that's changed is how much of a fight I'll be able to put up."

"What?!"

" _Quoi?"_

Oh right, he'd never told Fleur about that huh…

"Are you _absolutely sure_ he is _actually_ Alastor Moody, Professor?" Harry questioned, intentionally avoiding his girlfriend's stare for the moment.

" _Quite_ sure, my boy, and I never did congratulate you on a job well done in driving out the imposter, I'm sure you have Alastor's gratitude as well." He said jovially though the dark circles under the old wizard's eyes gave away how little rest the man had actually gotten to those who paid enough attention.

"Quite right, lad, I owe ya' one." The veteran Auror barked from beside the wizened Headmaster, enchanted eye spinning in a significantly more controlled manner than it did when it was Barty Crouch Jr. that was using the man's body. Perhaps controlling the eye entirely took more practice than the Death Eater could manage on such short notice.

Harry lowered his wand trusting that Dumbledore would hopefully learn from his mistake the previous year but couldn't help but remain a bit twitchy around the grizzled Auror.

Dumbledore spoke up once more to those remaining in the sitting room, "If it's all the same to you all, I believe it would be in our best interests to adjourn to the dining room, I have some news about the multiple attacks that occurred the previous evening that would be best if told to everyone at once."

As the crowd slowly ambled towards the dining room after the Headmaster Fleur pinched his side lightly, "'As 'zere been a defense professor 'zat 'as _not_ tried to kill you, 'Arry?" she said, eyes narrowed in agitation.

"Um… no?"

"Of _course_ not," Fleur sighed defeatedly, before taking Nym's hand and tugging her lightly towards the dining room along with the telltale smell of Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

"Aww cmon! This time it wasn't even my fault! Fleur… Nym?"

 **AN: Like I said, chapters will now be bi-weekly releases, both to give me a chance to write longer and better quality chapters, as well as making the schedule more manageable as a side project rather than taking up the majority of my free time. Until next time!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Revised: 7/19/2019**

 **AN: Hey guys, new chapter shorter than I wanted but I wrote really slowly these past two weeks. Enjoy.**

Harry sat among the various order members as well as the temporary inhabitants of Grimmauld place, the congregation positively filling the dreary dining room to its maximum capacity. This was his first look at most of the Order members gathered in one place. Some faces were familiar to the young wizard while others were older witches and wizards that he'd never met before.

He noted Sirius grinning at him from across the table, cocking an eyebrow at the two witches flanking Harry on either side. Fleur was tucked quite close to his right side while Nym sat to his left, by unspoken agreement positioned in a slightly less intimate manner.

 _No need to create unnecessary drama in front of so many people after all._

Hermione and the four youngest Weasley children were seated on the far side of Fleur, the twins whispering in hushed tones while Ron, Hermione and Ginny were silent in the tense atmosphere of the unofficial order meeting. Their attention, as well as that of the older Order members was centered firmly on Dumbledore standing at the opposite end of the table, awaiting any news the wise Headmaster could offer concerning the events of the previous night. Harry expected there was _some_ reason that the man was so tardy in his response to the Death Eater attack on Privet Drive, but of the many possibilities, none of them spelled good news concerning the war.

"I am sure you are all curious at my absence considering the ah… _busy_ night we've all had," came the measured tones of the Headmaster, voice easily carrying to the edges of the group despite its moderate volume.

"Perhaps this isn't the best subject for the children Albus?" Mrs. Weasley cut in hesitantly from her position several seats to Harry's left, eyeing her youngest children imperiously.

"I am as hesitant to involve children in such grave matters and normally I would agree with you, Molly," Dumbledore answered tiredly. "But I'm afraid the Prophet will be covering this matter in the morning edition regardless of the wishes of you or I."

The Weasley matriarch settled back into her seat in resignation, clearly not happy with the decision if her furtive glances towards Harry's end of the table were anything to judge by.

The interruption forgotten, Dumbledore turned back to the table at large before dropping the bombarda.

"At approximately 8pm the previous evening, Lord Voldemort launched an assault on Azkaban prison resulting in the mass breakout of some of his most dangerous followers including the Lestrange brothers and Rudolphous' wife Bellatrix."

The group's reaction to this proclamation was varied. Feeling Nym stiffen beside him at the mention of her deranged aunt and her estranged in-laws, Harry ran a hand calmingly over the soft skin of her thigh under the table. Feeling some of the witch's tension leave her body he brought his attention back to the various conversations breaking out around the table, the conflicting voices combining into an unintelligible murmur. The few active Aurors situated around the table seemed to have already been informed of the situation, but the Order members with less combative occupations all seemed to either be in a state of disbelief or muttering about the revelation. Sirius scowled darkly from across the table, apparently as fond of Bellatrix as Nym was.

A sharp clearing of the throat from the Headmaster was all it took to bring the room to silence once more, allowing the wizard to elaborate further. "As some of you know, the Ministry has once again used the 'escaped mass murderer and right hand man of the Dark Lord, Sirius Black'" Dumbledore said resignedly, obviously quoting someone from the ministry verbatim.

"Wow, I broke the bastards out right under my own nose," Sirius snarked, alleviating some of the tension in the room if one were to ignore Snape who merely scoffed at what he viewed as insolence.

"Mmm, quite," Dumbledore interrupted before the pair really got going, "Sirius does indeed provide quite the convenient scapegoat for those blinded by their fear."

"The Dark Lord appears to have planned this assault without involving his most trusted followers," Snape cut in from his position beside the headmaster in his usual fluid tone.

"Or perhaps you're just not as important as you thought you were," came the expected snide comment from Harry's godfather earning a snicker from the younger male Weasleys. Harry grimaced at the comment, there was a time and place for such things and now was no such time.

"And Privet Drive?" Harry questioned softly, speaking up for the first time.

"What happened at Privet drive, Harry?" came the whispered question from Hermione, but Harry put off answering her in favor of listening to Snape's answer.

"As far as I was aware," Snape drawled, eyeing the bushy brunette witch in irritation, "there was no immediate plan for such a raid."

"So you think Riddle didn't know about it at all?" Harry probed.

The potions master sighed as is elaborating any further would cause him physical pain.

"I cannot be certain," he mused, closing his eyes in contemplation, "however from what Auror Shacklebolt has described concerning the wizards present at your… home, I do not see the value of ordering an attack so likely to fail, especially considering how adamant the Dark Lord has been about leaving you unharmed for the moment. If I am correct and the group was ignoring the Dark Lord's orders I can assure you he will not be pleased.

Harry nodded at the man's estimate, his own thoughts running along a similar vein. "You obviously have a better idea of Riddle's thoughts than I, at least _now_ ," he smirked, shooting an implicative glance at the Headmaster earning a sharp look from the man.

"I will, however have to disagree with you on one point, Professor," Harry said, turning back to the darkly dressed man. "The attack was _quite_ effective," he said, tightening his hold on Fleur subconsciously, "and the Death Eaters, on _duty_ or not, were frighteningly successful in their attempt to penetrate the wards of Privet Drive."

"Now," Harry said, flicking his eyes over the various Order members, "can someone _please_ explain to me why they could waltz into what is supposedly the safest place for me to be without any effort?"

Dumbledore moved to answer but Harry cut him off before he could get a word out.

"Before you say it was my leaving Privet Drive that dropped the wards," he said, his luminescent eyes glinting dangerously, "I've been leaving the Dursley's after an ambiguous amount of time every year since I started attending Hogwarts, can the time I spend there _really_ effect whatever protections there are _that_ much? The blood wards couldn't have been the only protections around the house, could they?"

"I assure you that your home is quite protected Harry," Dumbledore answered earnestly.

"So you're saying the HQ we're sitting in right now that's protecting _all_ of your Order members at once is _more_ at risk than the house of my muggle relatives? Forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical." Harry scoffed.

"I merely wished for you to have a family of your own my boy," Dumbledore sighed.

Harry barked out a laugh at that. "Are you sure we're talking about that same people Professor? My so-called 'family' is currently bound and silenced in the sitting room because my dear old uncle couldn't contain his hate for our kind for _two_ minutes. I'm sure some of you had the _pleasure_ of speaking to the man, however briefly," he said sarcastically, indicating the various Order members.

The Headmaster's expression left no doubt that he truly believed that his decision was in Harry's best interests but unfortunately had misjudged the affection Petunia had for her sister greatly.

"Just… forget it," Harry said after a moment, pinching his brow in aggravation, "This summer has been nothing like the previous ones, nor will it ever be again if I have anything to say about it." Nym gave his thigh a squeeze in support, knowing how cathartic asserting his independence to the Headmaster would be.

"Be that as it may," Dumbledore sighed, reassessing the startling changes to the young wizard, the shift in personality more staggering than the more conspicuous physical changes he had gone through. "There have been certain unexpected _repercussions_ of your retaliation to the attack."

"Oh?" Harry said, cocking an eyebrow, "and what's that, sir?"

"You are being summoned to appear before the Wizengamot for violation of the regulation of underaged magic." Dumbledore stated, getting to the point in an uncharacteristically blunt fashion.

Harry could practically feel the glare piercing him from Hermione's location several seats down, apparently having jumped to the conclusion that his earlier performance was nothing but a farce. Harry however was quick to assuage her worries.

"So what's _really_ going on then, Alby?" Nym said lazily tipping her chair back to balance precariously on two legs. "There's no question that Wonderboy had just cause to defend his home."

Nym's statement was met with a multitude of shifting glances from the group, nothing overt, just as if her opinion held slightly less weight than that of her peers. Harry nearly spoke up but a pinch from his side halted his tongue; he trusted Nym to have a good enough reason for not calling them out on their attitude. He tried to catch the Headmaster's eyes noting that man was avoiding his gaze for some reason. Incidentally, it was Kingsley that answered Tonks' initial question.

"While repelling the attack on Privet drive, we made several requests for backup to both the Department for Regulation of Magical Creatures and the Auror office, both of which were stymied at some point," 'Shack's' deep baritone rang out from his place near the head of the table. "Upon further investigation it appears that the two dementors were deployed officially through the ministry," he sighed, the implications not lost on those around the table.

"That can't be right!" Molly shouted, furrowing her eyebrows, " _he's_ been back barely a month, how could he already have so much influence Albus?"

"There are those who spent the time of peace merely biding their time in positions of power, waiting for the Dark Lord to return once again," Moody growled from the shadows of the gloomy room.

"Real pasty looking bugger, rhymes with plonde bonce," Harry heard Fred whisper to his twin from somewhere to his right.

"To be fair it makes sense, right," Nym mused, "Mcnair has been working with the Creature department for years. It wouldn't be a stretch for him to get ahold of a pair of dementors right?"

Until that moment Harry had been unable to connect the man he had encountered during his third year with the Death Eater that had been willing to massacre a block full of nonmagicals, not to mention cursing Fleur simply for the thrill of it.

"I should have known such an awful man was working for You-know-who," Hermione spoke up, obviously having remembered the man as well.

Harry glanced towards Fleur only to see a fire lit behind her beautiful blue irises. Self-confident she may be, but the next time they came across the man Harry would make certain there would be retribution.

His concern over Fleur's reaction to Mcnair being mentioned having sidetracked him, Harry barely caught the end of his godfather's comment.

"—still doesn't explain why the fool ignored his master's orders, according to Snivelus," he sneered, tilting his head towards the dour potions master. "The madman has been obsessed over this so-called weapon," he spouted carelessly.

"Weapon?! What weapon?" Ron questioned, curiosity peaked. Unfortunately, his interjection drew his mother's attention to the fact that the younger witches and wizards were still in the room.

"Enough!" Molly shouted. "They're too young! Too young and much too inexperienced to be fighting in a war," she finished clearly expecting to be obeyed. It was utter rubbish of course, Harry had probably seen more action than Molly herself, and Ron and Hermione came close, but he could not in good conscience fault a mother for wanted to protect her children. A wave of protest came from the majority of the Weasley's but was halted when Dumbledore spoke up once more.

"I'm afraid I must agree with Molly here, your hearing is scheduled for August tenth, my boy, until then I trust you'll be able to find something to fill your time?"

"I'm sure I'll manage," Harry murmured, eyes hardening slightly at the slip of the tongue, though whether it was intentional or not was yet to be seen. Tonks had never gone into more detail about what exactly the order was doing in the department of mysteries, but Harry assumed that that's what they were speaking of. There was, however, no reason to bring this fact up at the present so Harry held his tongue.

"Very well," Dumbledore said to the table at large. "Those of you whose duties have changed due to the events of the previous evening I have already spoken to. If it wouldn't be too much of a bother would you mind if I had a word with Miss Delacour, Miss Tonks and yourself for a moment, Harry?" Dumbledore said in a clear dismissal.

The Order members who had other obligations for the day slowly trickled out of the dining room, various conversations breaking out amongst the departing crowd. The news of Voldemort's most infamous followers at large once more was a concerning revelation to say the least. Molly resumed her work preparing breakfast for the more permanent residents of the old black manor house, looking at home in the kitchen despite the change of scenery.

Harry and the girls followed the Headmaster to a room that turned off the main hallway of the ground floor of HQ. The room reflected the standard of living one would expect from the noble house of Black despite its neglected state.

"There are a few more sensitive topics that I wished to discuss with you, Harry my boy." Dumbledore said turning to the three younger magicals.

The veteran sorcerer had a particular humbling presence, understandable considering the sheer amount of history the man had personally lived through. "Particularly having to do with how the three of you came to be present at Privet Drive. I was under the impression that you had found a temporary residence for the summer, it should have been obvious who you have been spending your time with considering the end of the previous term." Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling away. "It _is_ wonderful to see you again, Miss Delacour, though I wish it were under different circumstances," he said, blue eyes trailing over the faint scar left by Fleur's injury.

"So Privet drive, Sir?" Harry said pointedly, drawing attention away from the grateful veela.

"Indeed, how was it that the three of you ended up clashing with the individuals that led the assault in Surrey?" the aged wizard asked.

"Well, I was keeping an eye on these two as one would expect from a bodyguard," Nym smirked slapping a hand onto Harry's shoulder and patting Fleur lightly on her waist. Tonks had launched into her explanation despite not being addressed directly but Harry was quite content to let her take the lead.

"That's when Shack's patronus came with the alert. Right in the middle of a muggle tattoo parlour too!" She amended.

"Truly? I assume you took the proper safety measures to call in an obliviator," Dumbledore said innocently with a hint of mischief.

"Right right," Tonks said waving dismissively before giving the man their actual reasoning for responding to the patronus, believing full disclosure in this case was their best bet in avoiding opposition from the man.

"Harry and Fleur _may_ have been in range of the message when it came through and since we were of a similar opinion considering the situation we decided to provide support." She said, falling back into the cadence of an Auror reporting to a superior officer.

"I may have no wish to live with the Dursley's but they didn't deserve to die, especially considering the reason behind the attack in the first place." Harry said, adding his personal reasoning for the decision. "I won't hold myself responsible for the attack itself but I _will_ do my part to reduce a loss of life," he said, eyes glinting with conviction.

oooOoOoOooo

It was as Harry finished his statement so earnestly that Dumbledore was struck by the changes in the young wizard's gaze, much more significant than the very obvious physical changes such as the queer dusting of silver lining his irises.

There was a fire in his stare now, a surety in himself that could only result from holding oneself to a higher standard than the rest.

An excellence born in the face of adversity.

It was at that point that Dumbledore conceded that perhaps his projections on how this war would play out weren't entirely accurate. None of the anger or resentment that he was expecting was present in Harry, nor were there any other signs that he was being influenced in a negative manner by the return of the Dark Lord. More aloof and calculating the boy may be, but that could be explained by an improved mindset and maturity. From what Dumbledore could tell, he lacked the underlying tingle of cruelty present in a young Tom Riddle.

After years of consideration Dumbledore had long since decided on a course of action that would hopefully fulfill the prophecy plotting out the destruction of the Dark Lord as well as spare the boy's life in the end. The centuries old wizard had been slowly distancing himself from Harry since Riddle's resurrection, limiting their contact for fear of the madman's connection to the boy tempting him to penetrate his vulnerable mind.

However, if Harry was not being influenced whatsoever months after the ritual, then perhaps a more certain solution was possible. The boy's new sense of responsibility was at least an indicator that he may be ready to hear of the prophecy rather soon.

Could they really be so fortunate?

oooOoOoOooo

The Headmaster had paused as if to consider Harry's decision to come to provide backup to the residents of Privet Drive, however the young man could tell that the veteran wizard was weighed down by heavy thoughts, judging by the lack of any hint of a twinkle in his eyes.

"They proved themselves proficient in a combat situation, and are both _quite_ capable of holding their own," Nym spoke up, trying to sway the wizard to their point of view not seeing the look in his eyes.

Dumbledore seemed to come to a decision as he spoke up in response to the metamorph, "I have no doubt you have proven to be quite the asset to their studies, Miss Tonks." Harry twitched slightly. It wasn't surprising really that the Headmaster had deduced the reason behind his increased magical ability, despite only catching the tail end of some of the simplest magic in his repetoir. It's not like the Headmaster had forbidden him from learning magic after all, and judging by the slight twitch of his beard he was not all that upset about the fact.

Dumbledore's disposition seemed to grow more serious as he met Harry's eyes steadily for the first time since he arrived, piercing baby blue meeting emerald green as the Headmaster posed his question.

"Harry, my boy, have you experienced anything strange or uncomfortable since Voldemort has returned to the… mortal realm?"

The irony of the Headmaster's wording was lost on none of the occupants of the room and Harry _did_ indeed feel the slight brush against his meagre Occlumency shields, though the probe was barely strong enough to differentiate between truth and falsehood, a passive aspect of the art that sometimes occurred subconsciously in masters of the art.

Harry stiffened but did not break eye contact with the man, respecting the fact that despite having the ability to, was not intruding on the privacy of his mind. The question was too specific to not be concerning the Horcrux once lodged in Harry's skull which meant that he might have more information concerning Riddle's attempt to gain immortality, particularly the amount of soul-jars he may have created. The opportunity for more information was too valuble to pass up just to hold a grudge against the man for hoarding the knowledge in the first place.

"Not anymore," Harry answered, choosing his words carefully, "though towards the beginning of summer I _was_ having these awful headaches." He eyed Dumbledore carefully, watching for a reaction from the wise wizard. "But everything seemed to clear up after the mishap with my vision correction ritual. Thanks for mentioning that, by the way," Harry added a bit petulantly.

Dumbledore perked up at the mention of the botched ritual, "My apologies, my boy, I can't believe such a procedure slipped my mind, your father always wore spectacles so I just assumed…" Harry waved away his apologies so he continued, "So you had the ritual performed then? What exactly went wrong?"

Harry went about explaining the general gist of what happened that day to the Headmaster who was paying rapt attention. Harry also gave the man the same conclusions he had drawn moments after it had occurred, leaving out the information on horcruxes that the trio had discovered since then. No need to enlighten the Headmaster to the fact that he had access to that kind of literature.

By the end of his explanation Dumbledore had begun to visibly sag in relief due to what he considered almost undeniable proof that Harry was no longer shackled to a portion of the Dark Lord. This would give them a bit of room toe maneuver.

"It seems to me from your reaction, Professor that you already had some idea of the implication of such magic," Harry said idly. Seeing the man open his mouth to offer platitudes and apologies he held up a hand to stop him before he could even begin. "Sir, I'm aware that you probably had the best intentions when you made the choices you did, however when it's _my_ life being dictated, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave the choice up to me, or at least give me all the information up front."

Dumbledore let his gaze travel the trio, seeing the close knit ties between all three that he hadn't quite picked up on before. He sighed self-deprecatingly before speaking once more.

"It seems we have a long discussion to be had since we are working towards a common goal," he said, taking command once more, "I have a ministry still in uproar to deal with but once the situation is somewhat under control once more, I will be back and we must speak candidly," He finished with a short bob of his head.

"Sounds like plan, Sir," Harry said with a genuine smile. He would not forget the Headmaster's role in his less than stellar upbringing, but Harry would not be the same man today if not for his life experiences and he wouldn't change them for the world. Remembering one issue that would be better solved earlier than later he spoke up once more.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what's to be done about the Dursley's, we obviously can't just turn them loose considering all they've seen, but I assure you that you'll tire of them before the day's done."

"I am not normally one to toy with the human psyche so frivolously but in this case, obviation and relocation may be the easiest solution for all parties involved," Dumbledore mused, "If it's all the same to you I will see to it that they are giving proper protection."

"I would be 'appy to relocate 'zem to a ditch," Fleur sniffed softly from his side earning a twinkle from Dumbledore as he strode from the room.

"Miss Delacour, as I said before, always a pleasure, and though I fear my invitation may be a bit tardy, please make yourself at home here for a long as you like, whether or not you wish to work for the Order can be decided in the future but I trust you will be discrete with this knowledge until then?"

" _Oui, Monsueir,_ " She said, dipping her head politely as he turned and exited Grimmauld place through the Hallway.

"Well that went easier than I thought," Nym commented, "was it really worth letting him know about the horcrux?"

"From his reaction he already had an idea, and like I said, I trust the man to do what he thinks is in everyone's best interests, its better if he's working with us instead of against us." Harry commented relishing being able to peck Nym on the lips after not touching her since they left their room.

"But 'zat did not stop you from acting ignorant of the situation," Fleur said.

"He's obviously still hiding something, we'll just have to see how forthcoming he is with information when we speak again," Harry said, smiling crookedly. "That being said, I think I smell breakfast, and I haven't eaten since…" he cast a quick tempus, "before we went to your uncle's Nym"

"Shite."

"Yeah…

"Race ya!"

oooOoOoOooo

Nym tumbled into the dining room in a tangle of limbs, just barely avoiding crashing into the dark, wooden table. All eyes were on Harry as he followed sedately, appearing properly bemused at Nym sprawled on the floor. It was clear the metamorph wasn't buying his act for a second as her pixie cut shifted to a reddish hue. Not that he would expect her to, a witch of her caliber would be able to detect a tripping jinx in a second and neither were above such an act in their frequent competitions.

"Alright, Potter! I see how it is," Nym cried, flipping back to her feet from her prone position in a graceful show of strength. "But the jokes on you 'cus _I_ still won, Wonderboy!"

Harry smirked as she marched over to him yanking on his collar playfully, painting a comical picture due to the disparity in height between the two. Mischief shone in Nym's eyes in a familiar way no matter their color or shape, but today she happened to be sporting deep violet eyes to match her hair, a shade lighter and stylishly arranged at a length just short of her shoulders.

This would normally be the point at which she would yank him down and snog him senseless, but in present company that probably wouldn't be the best choice. Instead, Harry was pulled into a seat next to the witch, Fleur sitting to his other side, rolling her eyes at her childish mate and lover.

The table of family and friends were mostly curious at the strange interaction between the ex Auror and Harry, having been unaware that they had even known each other before today. The only exceptions being those with some idea of his and Tonks' relationship. Ron's complexion made his blush quite conspicuous and even Hermione had a rosie tint to her cheeks, both obviously remembering the situation they had walked in on earlier. Sirius only had a shit eating grin on his face, eyes darting suggestively between Harry and the girls.

"Morning all," Harry smiled, "I didn't really get to say hello earlier, It's really great to see you all again despite the unfortunate circumstances."

"Hi Harry," came the jumbled response from Mr. Weasley and the twins grinning in his direction. The depressing atmosphere seemed to have lessened somewhat in the face of a Molly Weasley meal.

The woman in question swept over to him pulling him awkwardly into a hug as he was still half-seated, but the gesture was still appreciated.

"It's wonderful to see you, dear," she said smiling warmly up into his face, silently scrutinizing him before nodding slightly. "It seems you've finally got some meat on those bones, Harry dear," she smiled, "But look what you've done to your hair! One of _this_ one's ideas I'll bet," she added chewing her lip in disapproval as she fussed the fringe of his black and silver locks.

"Oh lighten up Molls, it's not like he was doing anything with it before, this is a _drastic_ improvement," Nym laughed, it seemed that this exchange was a familiar one between the two.

"I swear you're worse than Fred and George and you're an adult for goodness sake," Molly replied with a hint of fondness.

"Hey, we resent that!" came the affronted cries of the twins each brandishing forks with a sausage stuck to the end.

"No, you don't," Ginny said, shaking her head in disbelief, shooting surreptitious looks at Harry across the table as well as at Fleur on his right.

After a moment of silent discussion with his twin Fred spoke up once more, "Right you are, dear sister!"

"Carry on, Mother," George tacked on pompously, earning a round of laughs from the children. Mrs. Weasley however, stiffened slightly before returning silently to the kitchen to continue her work feeding the bottomless pit of Ron's stomach.

Harry tilted his head questioningly at George who looked a bit guilty at his mother's reaction. He made a vague gesture that Harry interpreted as _later_ so decided to drop the issue.

"I'm uh… sure you all know who Fleur is, but you haven't officially met, right? This is Fleur Delacour, my… girlfriend?" Harry said, pausing only because he knew that term didn't do their relationship justice but lacking a more ubiquitous name for it. Fleur's subtle quirk of the lips and head tilt let him know that she didn't really care for labels so long as they were together.

A mumbled greeting rang out around the table and Harry noticed Ginny's eyes narrowed at the veela. He had hoped to avoid such a problem but at this point it seemed inevitable.

Conversation soon broke out as they tucked into the vast meal prepared by the Weasley matriarch.

Harry vaguely heard Nym begin to charm Hermione and Ron to her left with her bubbly personality. It had only been a few minutes, but Harry knew they didn't stand a chance. If Nym had no reason to dislike you then it was difficult to _not_ like the witch.

Meanwhile, Harry was in a hushed discussion with the twins who were seated to Fleur's right about possible improvements to some of their more practical creations.

"The runework to make the extendable ears detachable was brilliant, Harry, how'd you come up with something like that?" Fred asked.

"Well non-magicals have already come up with the concept," he mused, remembering the box of inventions he and the girls had eventually sent back to the twins with possible tweaks to make. "As for the runework, that was all Fleur," he said smiling proudly at the blonde in question.

The twins practically had stars in their eyes as they turned to Fleur, and that was the only impetus needed for the twin troublemakers to begin picking the veela's brain for ideas for other inventions. Harry felt her talent was much better suited to creating new ideas than the work she was doing for the goblins now. Perhaps there was an opportunity to be taken advantage of here? He would have to bring the idea up later to see what the witch thought of it.

Harry smiled as he heard an intense sounding Hermione firing rapid questions about metamorphmagi towards an uncharacteristically flustered Nym. When he heard Nym interrupt his sometimes overly enthusiastic friend mid-question, he at first thought nothing of it. It wouldn't be the first time that someone had cut the girl off mid rant, sometimes it was the only way to get her to stop. But when he heard the words that came out of Nym's mouth he internally swore vengeance for the hell he had been knowingly doomed to.

"You know Hermione, I'm sure Harry would be quite willing to answer your questions, we _did_ unlock his partial metamorph abilities this summer," she said, that familiar glint entering her eyes once more.

The last thing Harry could remember was a pair of big, curious brown eyes.

 _noooooo._

 **AN: Hey guys I've got some recommendations if you like Nym and Fleur as love interests. Check out 'The Half-Blood Romantic' by Sophprosyne and 'The Life He Leads' by Generalstarfox. Both of these stories have less hits that my own for some reason but are both written by writers significantly better than I. The thing I like about the stories is that they both deal with the realistic complications of being with someone significantly older like the difference in life experience, without it becoming super angsty or Harry coming off as too immature. Check em' out!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Revised: 7/19/2019**

 **AN: Wow, more than a whole week late guys, not much I can say, a combination of a lack of motivation and being busy with other things made this chapter come out slow. That being said, I think it still turned out ok. I'll do my best to stick to the schedule from now on. Sorry about that. This chapter continues with no time having past from the last chapter so it may warrant a reread, but that's of course entirely up to you.**

Hermione had eventually exhausted any questions she could come up with at the moment concerning Harry's newly discovered ability, though not at all satisfied at their reasoning behind its latency. She bookish witch was quick to volunteer to research the topic once they had all returned to Hogwarts.

The rest of the morning meal passed without any more incidents of investigation from the brown-haired witch. In fact, if one were to disregard her earlier interrogation she was downright subdued compared to her usual bullheaded tendencies. Harry had an idea of what had his friend in a funk, and was lucky enough for it to be within his power to fix. All it would require was a conversation, one that would benefit from happening sooner rather than later.

As breakfast wound down, it was the twins that were the first to rise, clearly inspired by their conversation with Fleur and eager to return to their shared room and whatever workshop they had managed to transport to Grimmauld place. Harry may have misjudged just _how_ eager the pair was as the apparated right out of the dining room with an echoing crack.

Harry glanced around the table with an eyebrow cocked in askance, hoping for some kind of explanation from the group disregarding Fleur, who had never been to Grimmauld before. No one besides Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to be fuming on principle as a mother, seemed to see this as peculiar. Apparently, this was a regular occurrence as even Nym, who Harry knew first hand, spent most of her time away from the dreary manor didn't react in any overt way.

"Oh! I don't _believe_ those two," cried Mrs. Weasley as she aggressively snapped her wand through the air clearing the twin's place at the table. "No respect for their mother and always rushing off playing with those _inventions_ of theirs!"

Harry had to admit, the sheer distain the matronly woman spat the final word with was a bit frightening considering he was a co-conspirator in this whole project. However, he managed to keep the distress off his face, instead opting to agree with her first point.

"You're not wrong, Mrs. Weasley, at least about the apparating thing," he said, murmuring the second part under his breath. "I imagine it's like traffic laws," he mused smiling at Nym to his left who seemed to be one of the few raised with magic to understand the comparison.

"I don't geddit," Ron said bluntly earning a bark of laughter from Nym.

"He _means_ that the system only works when everyone follows the rules," Hermione lectured beside him.

"Right in one, Hermione," Harry said, nodding in her direction. "Although I'd imagine the consequences aren't quite as dire as running a red light, I imagine it'd drive me mad if everyone was just popping in and out of existence in the middle of stores," Harry said with a laugh, echoed by his friends.

"You laugh now Wonderboy, but apparation's no joke, I feel like I've told you this before," she said, raising an eyebrow, obviously alluding to when she was teaching him herself.

"You may have mentioned it once or twice," he drawled playfully.

Nym narrowed her eyes in response with a smirk tugging at her lips before turning to the rest of Harry's peers.

"They sometimes have the green Aurors do paperwork for other departments, which totally blows by the way," Nym narrated seriously, clearly enjoying herself. "Did you know that the majority of splinches are caused by accidental side along apparation?" The metamorph grinned dangerously, "Someone's just minding their own business when some asshole who's not careful enough _pops_ away, taking half their arm with them. There's a _reason_ we have designated zones for apparation," she ranted lightly.

Harry grinned, having heard this story several times before when he was first learning the skill with Nym and Fleur. The smaller witch had a bit of an obsession with apparation safety and had been sure to drill it into his own head as well. Harry and Fleur were of the opinion that she was still a bit paranoid from her experience in the Auror office. Though whether it was from the monotony of the paperwork or the content of the reports themselves was still up for debate.

It seemed that Nym had finished her spiel sometime during his introspection as he saw the rest of the tableware floating through the air towards the kitchen where Harry was sure they would be cleaned in an equally practiced use of household charms.

Mrs. Weasley was certainly a master of her craft.

"Alright dears you can get settled in your rooms for the rest of today but we'll be back to work come tomorrow," said Mrs. Weasley shooing the remaining occupants out of the dining room, "And _do not_ explore the unchecked rooms!" she shouted after them.

"Who does she think we are, Fred and George?" Ron grumbled.

"Oh, _honestly_ Ronald, she has a reason to worry, the place is clearly crawling with dark magic," chided Hermione.

"Right but it's pretty simple innit? Don't touch the stuff glowing with evil magic, right mate?" Ron joked, moving to pat Harry on the shoulder companionably, only to pause inches away.

Harry sighed, knowing that this conversation was a long time coming. Not that he really had any particular ill will towards them, but it seemed that both Ron and Hermione still felt guilty about their lack of communication over the summer so far. At least that what Harry assumed, judging from all furtive glances and overall hesitant attitudes

Reading the situation after a brief pause Fleur lightly pulled Nym after her under the guise of helping her up the stairs to their room. Harry smiled softly at the blond witch in thanks.

"Shall we check out the library?" Harry offered, both to tempt Hermione as well as to sate his own curiosity. Who knew what kind of magic has been horded by the Black family over the years.

"We still haven't sorted through all the books in the library yet," Sirius said as he climbed the stairs behind them. "Usually a family's house elf can distinguish between which books have been cursed or not, unfortunately that poses a bit of a problem. I'm not sure if you've met the little bugger yet, Harry, but Kreacher isn't exactly the most diligent of house elves."

No love lost there then? Sirius spoke with the same tone as whenever the man's mother came up.

"If it's an elf you need, I'm sure Dobby wouldn't mind having another project to busy himself with," Harry said, rather than voicing his thoughts. Sirius paused for a moment in consideration.

"Normally I'd say yes, but not all elfs have experience with dark artifacts, one without that sort of experience might inadvertently trigger some long-forgotten curse," Sirius said thoughtfully.

"Dobby!" Harry called, as he, Hermione and Ron followed Sirius as he led the way down a dim corridor to what Harry assumed was the Library.

The sprightly elf popped into existence beside Harry barely breaking stride.

"What can Dobby do today for Master Harry Potter Sir?" said the excitable elf, taking several elf-sized steps for Harry's one.

"Hello, Dobby, just a quick question," Harry said, ignoring Hermione's indignant shout at his summoning of Dobby. "When you were the Malfoy's house elf, did they ever have you handling dark artifacts?"

Harry could see his diminutive friend reliving a time of his life best forgotten before he nodded the affirmative.

"So, you could _safely_ sort through the library and identify the cursed tomes?" Harry pressed lightly, wanting to assure that Dobby would remain in as little unnecessary danger as possible.

Another nod was the elf's answer as they finally arrived at a dual-sided oak door, a bit larger than the entrances to the ordinary rooms of the manor.

"You're sure we can trust him Pup? You _did_ say he was the Malfoy elf before did you not?" Sirius said pausing before the dark wooden doors and scrutinizing Dobby's wide innocent eyes with a narrowed brow.

"They weren't the kindest of masters," Harry said, waving away the ex-con's concerns. "And I'd trust Dobby with my life." The Malfoy's treatment of the elf was and understatement to say the least, but with Hermione already in a fit about him _owning_ an elf in the first place he thought it best to avoid further antagonizing the brown haired witch.

"Not really surprising," Sirius sighed. "Alright, Dobby, I'll show you what we've sorted through so far and where everything goes," he said somehow opening the doors with his palm splayed over the polished wood.

The room was not nearly the size of the Hogwarts library and was decorated in a similar manner to the rest of Grimmauld place, sporting parallel shelves stretching all the way to the ceiling crafted from the same dark wood found in most of the furnishings around the manor. A small area in the corner of the room was set aside with several tables and chairs where Sirius may have studied as a child.

 _Or not._

Harry smirked to himself at the thought, watching Sirius walk Dobby through what items had already been inspected and deemed safe. His smile only widened at the small whine of genuine excitement that came from Hermione at the size of the 'cleared' pile. It was, perhaps, a testament to the strength of their friendship when Harry and Ron shared a grin over her head. The simultaneous eye rolls were almost automatic at this point.

It was seconds before Hermione was rifling through the stacks of books for something of interest. Harry, however, was strolling along the unchecked shelves, peering at the faded titles, mindful to not touch any of the weathered bindings.

Sirius left after he was satisfied that Dobby understood his instructions, leaving the room to lapse into nothing but the sound of turning pages and the elf's own brand of magic.

oooOoOoOooo

"Why aren't you yelling and shouting and terribly upset with us!"

Harry sat stunned as the room returned to the uneasy silence that Hermione had so unceremoniously interrupted with her spontaneous outburst. The witch in question was slowly growing redder, at least Harry assumed she would be if she wasn't burying her face in the large text in embarrassment.

Perhaps it'd been on her mind more than he'd thought.

"Uh… Hermione?" Harry started, tentatively glancing to Ron only to see the boy with his eyes to the tabletop. Well he wouldn't be much help there…

"Hermione what are you-?"

"You know perfectly well what I meant, Harry Potter!" she burst out sternly, though the honest regret still shone in her light brown eyes. "We were absolutely horrible, weren't we?" she murmured softly, glancing up through her eyelashes, "leaving you alone with those horrible people, it's just…" she closed her mouth, seeming to be at a loss for words.

"Dumbledore told us to not say anything about where we were or what we're doing, mate," Ron cut in, looking supremely uncomfortable with the situation. "Only that doesn't leave much else to say in a letter yunno?" he added sheepishly.

It wasn't exactly an apology, but Harry recognized the intent behind the gesture, nonetheless. He sat across from his two oldest friends, each wearing a different expression yet both looking equally remorseful, each in their own way.

"What has anger ever gained us," Harry murmured, smiling to himself. "I see why you thought it was the best choice to limit contact with me, as much as I may disagree with it, I understand. But I gotta' ask, did Dumbledore ever say why?" Harry questioned.

"He didn't want letters to get stolen," answered Ron, glancing at Hermione for confirmation.

"What exactly did you risk by keeping me updated on what you've been doing all summer," Harry asked the pair with genuine curiosity. He stood, the tense atmosphere making him feel a bit restless. "It's not like the Order itself could be much of a secret," he mused out aloud while pacing around the dusty stacks. "At least if what I've heard from Nym about how they fought Voldemort the last time around is true."

A glance around a bookshelf revealed Hermione both deep in thought and looking entirely unconvinced at his apparent lack of any sort of anger. Ron just avoided eye contact as if nothing would make him happier than to drop the topic altogether.

"Look, Hermione, I could spend weeks holding a grudge but that's not really benefiting anyone," Harry said, peering imploringly at his bushy-haired friend, "and I don't know if I need to say this, but this hasn't exactly been one of my _normal_ summers, which I'm sure you have _some_ idea of, between what I've mentioned over the years and what little you've had the _pleasure_ of witnessing today."

The irony of the situation was not lost on the green-eyed wizard, having to convince his friend that he was truly not upset with her, an endeavor that he seemed to be on the verge of accomplishing, if her slowly growing smile was anything judge by.

"You've changed, Harry," Ron said simply, gazing at his friend of many years. "I mean besides growing a few inches and the weird haircut," he amended, smirking slightly.

"I went up a shoe size too," Harry shot back cheekily.

"You know what I meant Harry, it's the way you talk too," Ron added after some thought, "It's like, I dunno' captivating or something." Ron looked away with scrunched eyebrows at his inability to convey his thoughts properly.

" _Captivating,_ Ron?" Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. "I _do_ understand what he means though, you seem a bit more self-assured than before."

"Three guesses why," Ron mumbled, turning away slightly but still unable to dodge the elbow thrown by the witch beside him.

"And _speaking_ of Fleur and Tonks, Harry, we're going to be having a talk about exactly what kind of _friendship_ you three have," Hermione said narrowing her eyes at Harry.

"The _best_ kind—"

"Ronald!"

" _What?_ I'm just sayin' that from an objective standpoint it looked pretty good," Ron said, smiling slightly in remembrance of the tease Tonks had given that morning.

Harry's miniscule eye twitch was the only warning before a small rubber ball smacked into the side of the redhead's skull before bouncing lightly to the floor. Harry's wand was sheathed once more before either of his friends noticed his draw, but he made no move to deny culpability as his friend sputtered in mock indignation.

"Oi! What was that for!" Ron shouted, a light grin pulling at his lips.

"Quit leering into the past, Ron," was Harry's only response. An accurate estimate of his thoughts if the wizard's reddening face was any indication. Harry smirked in triumph before turning to the witch in the room, who looked torn between grilling him on his nonverbal conjuration and admonishing him for roughhousing in a _library_ of all places.

"As for telling you about Fleur, Nym and I, I had intended to," Harry said, flicking his ebony wand out and twirling the instrument absentmindedly, "considering how happy they make me, that _is_ something I would generally share with my best mates," he said with a shrug, earning a smile from both of his friends.

"Though I would hope that had I wanted to keep that to myself, you would have respected my privacy and dropped the matter, Hermione," Harry said smiling innocently.

"Mate do you _know_ her?" was Ron's only comment.

"Hmm, I must have forgotten," Harry mused, his lips twitching in amusement.

"Yes yes, _very_ mature you two," Hermione huffed before seeming to remember something. "Wait a minute Harry! What was Professor Dumbledore speaking of earlier, about Privet Drive? _Oh,_ I should have _known_ something was wrong when your family was here, it made no sense to bring them here unless something had gone wrong. I just-"

"Hermione!" Harry cut in before she could gather any more momentum in her rambling.

"Sorry Harry," she bit out, both eager to hear what happened and contrite at her propensity for long-windedness.

"As far as I know, no one besides Fleur was harmed on our side, though thinking back on it, I'm not sure if anyone who lived in the neighborhood was hurt." Harry said, his tone turning more pensive.

"What happened to Fleur?" Ron queried, showing the concern of the friend Harry knew he was capable of being, despite not always showing it in the past. Hermione eyed the redhead doubting for a moment that his concern was genuine before nodding and turning to Harry to await his answer.

Harry smiled in thanks at their concern "She's recovering now but it was a close thing," Harry started, his eyes seeming faraway as he recalled the helplessness of the situation. "We were lucky that Snape could counter the effects in time."

"Ah I see you've had the pleasure of encountering his greasiness" Ron said sarcastically.

"Ron, _please!_ He's a teacher no matter how much you dislike him, and from what Harry's said he may have saved Fleur's life," Hermione berated Ron.

Harry nodded in agreement, "Years of public ridicule is hard to forget, but I will always be grateful. As for what happened on Privet Drive," he paused for a moment considering how to properly explain the situation.

"What do you know about Fiendfyre…"

oooOoOoOooo

After spending a couple hours talking and revising in the library, the twins had eventually popped in to drag the three friends downstairs to help with making the dilapidated manor habitable once more.

Once they had arrived on the ground floor, Mrs. Weasley instructed her youngest son to help Sirius clear out the bedrooms that had yet to be combed through. Sirius had warned Harry earlier in the day that the mother of seven would be particularly keen to keep the two away from each other, believing Sirius to be the most likely candidate to include the younger residents in what she considered 'Order business.'

Of course, Mrs. Weasley was completely unaware of the fact that Tonks had already kept him informed of any relevant information that popped up in order meetings, making her effort pointless. Disregarding all of that, Harry was just a bit put out that he was being denied more of what little time he had with his godfather already. Not that he was obligated to actually follow the woman's directions, but she had always been kind to him and if placating her took so little effort then he didn't mind so much.

The sitting room that they had been instructed to clear was fortunately bereft of too much clutter. However, _un_ fortunately for the witches and wizards tasked with the job, several long windows opposite the door had a heavy doxy infestation which, also unfortunately, was hard to take care of with only magic. Hence the large canisters of doxy spray, as well as what looked like comically oversized fly swatters resting on the table.

One of the reasons behind Molly's heightened hovering was made apparent when Harry, after an hour or so of work, questioned Fred about the whereabouts of his next eldest brother, curious at the Weasleys' reaction earlier at breakfast.

The normally jovial prankster's face darkened slightly at the question, "Percy," Fred spit out, brutally smacking a doxy out of the air in his irritation, "is no longer welcome in our home anymore."

"Not that Mum wouldn't welcome him back with open arms if he came running tomorrow," George cut in with a sigh, more levelheaded than his brother but still visibly upset by the situation.

"He doesn't deserve it," Fred insisted.

"No. He doesn't," George said, reassuring his twin, "and we'll be sure to let him know how much he buggered everything up when he _does_ crawl back to us."

"Prank war?" Fred said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Prank war implies assaults from both sides, oh brother of mine, this will be a prank _extermination_." George corrected, patented mischievous grin back in its proper place.

"Pardon me for a moment, but what actually _happened_?" Hermione said, dropping into a dark wooden chair with a huff. Harry perked up, curious as well.

"He and Dad got into a real row right after we got out for break," George started, joining the younger witch at the table.

"Somethin' about having to 'outgrow the Weasley name' at work, Merlin knows why he wants to work for the ministry anyway," Fred cut in, tossing his Doxy-swatter onto the table with a grimace. "Some of the things Percy said to Dad were way out of line," he added, clearly not wanting to repeat anything that was said.

Harry could respect that, he trusted the twins to be trustworthy when it counted and doubted they would exaggerate something so close to home.

It was a few minutes of Doxy extermination that Harry'd gotten his first glimpse of the house elf Sirius had called Kreacher, and as first impressions went, Harry could not in good conscience call it a pleasant one. Not that there was any actually interaction occurring, as the aged house elf did not deign to acknowledge those who he considered nothing more than 'filthy mudbloods and blood traitors sullying the noble house of Black,' at least if the wrinkled creature's inane ramblings were anything to judge by.

The elf cursing the 'thieving redheaded cur' with particular vehemence prompted a raised brow or two among the group, before Hermione reminded them all of which rooms were being cleansed of cursed objects that day. Sirius had mentioned just hours previously how fond the ancient elf was of his brother. Harry found Hermione's defense of Kreacher despite his foul and bigoted temperament a bit comical, the girl was loyal to the point of blindness at times.

Removing doxy infestation in the sitting room took another half an hour or so, and it seemed that Ron and Sirius had finished with their rooms as well when Ron joined them in the sitting room.

The redheaded wizard flopped bodily into a chair opposite a couched occupied by Harry Hermione and George, while Fred zipped upstairs to his room for some reason unknown to Harry. Ron's shoulders were stiff, and Harry felt a shiver go down his spine at the look in his friend's eyes. Something was off, besides the obvious bad mood the youngest Weasley boy was in.

"What's the point of a summer holiday if all we're doing is cleaning up this dump?" he spat petulantly, surprising Harry and his friends with the venom in his tone.

" _Ronald!"_ Hermione shouted appalled, _"_ What are you _saying?_ Sirius was nice enough to let us stay here for the holidays the least we can do is help with the work."

"Bollocks! The next time Mum makes us slave away all day I'm just gonna tell 'er to stuff it!" he said.

"Sure you will Ronniekins," George said with a roll of the eyes. "You may think it, but I doubt you have the bollocks to say it to the woman," he laughed, used to remaining unfazed in the face of one of his brother's moods.

Harry's eyes narrowed at his friend as he left the room with a huff, merely stating that he was going to his room. The redhead had been nothing but gracious in the short time that Harry had been in Grimmauld, and despite being prone to complain occasionally, this behavior seemed a bit out of place. Maybe he'd overestimated how much his friend had grown in their time apart…

"I have no idea what's got Ron in such a fit," Hermione said furrowing her brow nervously, "he's been perfectly agreeable to help out up until now."

"He'd whinge and moan if Mum had us cleaning for more than a couple hours, but nothing like that," George commented.

"Really," Harry said, stretching the word out in curiosity, his earlier suspicions somewhat confirmed. He would be sure to keep an eye on his friend for the next few days

Dinner was par for the course as far as Weasley family meals were concerned, the depressing decor and unappealing portraits surrounding the family doing nothing to hamper the joyous atmosphere. Fleur and Tonks were still holed away in their shared room as they had been all day and had been oddly secretive about what they had been doing. Harry was a bit anxious to see how Fleur was recovering as well as simply missing his two better thirds after having grown used to spending all day with at least one of them.

Dinner consisted of a delicious beef stew prepared by Mrs. Weasley, as letting Kreacher near anything they planned on eating would result in dire consequences for everyone involved. Ron seemed to be in a slightly better mood now that he was eating one of his mother's home cooked meals but was still a bit standoffish. Harry however had more important things to worry about currently. He finished his serving quickly and excused himself as soon as he could while still being polite, stating that he wished to get to bed a bit early.

A quick climb up the main staircase and down a hallway that was quickly becoming familiar and he arrived at the door to his room shared with Nym and Fleur. He raised his hand to knock for once, unsure of what the two were doing or if he was allowed to take a peak

A soft, "Come in," from behind the door prompted Harry to enter his room.

oooOoOoOooo

Harry stepped into his temporary home, eager to see his girls once more after a tiring day.

He was not disappointed.

Nym and Fleur painted a picture of sensuality as they lounged in fluffy white towels seemingly fresh out of the shower if the attractive flush of their cheeks was any indication. Fleur's silvery hair pulled up into a messy bun only served to add to her appeal as she smiled lovingly at him.

"Evening loves," he grinned for lack of a better greeting.

"Wonderboy! You're just in time!" Nym said hopping up from her spot on the bed. Harry smiled at the witch's typical exuberance. Dark violet locks to the point where they could be mistaken for black were arranged in a similar manner to Fleur giving the older witch a more striking appearance than Harry was used to seeing on her. The change was no less entrancing as the woman's toned figure was covered by such a miniscule towel. It was certain failing at its job.

"For _what_ …." He smiled cautiously, stretching the second word out inquiringly as he removed his outer clothes and changing into a light pair of sleep pants leaving his lithe torso bare.

"We're giving Aphrodite here a _massage_ ," she dimpled cutely, "doctor's orders!"

"I am quite sure 'zat is not what 'ze woman meant," Fleur sighed.

"Quiet you! You know you're loving this!" Nym said.

"Wait what doctor? Who's orders?" Harry cut in, positive he was missing some key information for the conversation.

"Your school 'ealer was kind enough to stop by and checkup on 'ze scarring for me, love," Fleur said in explanation.

"And?" Harry questioned.

"'Ze aches will last per'aps a few more days, and—"

"—And if we massage her with the murtlap seed oil that they gave us!" Nym cut in excitedly, ignoring the sharp look shot her way for the interruption.

"'Zen 'ze recovery time will be lessened," Fleur continued. "As for the scarring, it was lessened by the quick reaction of 'ze potions master, but 'zere will always be a faint mark," she finished with a bittersweet smile, brushing her fingers subconsciously along her neck.

"I see," Harry said, silently stepping closer to the veela perched on the edge of the bed. He leaned in slowly as if for a kiss, only to whisper in her ear, "so you two weren't just hiding out here all day avoiding the work then?"

Harry took the deserved smacks to the chest with dignity as Fleur puffed up in indignation, but she couldn't quite the contain the laughter as she batted the black and silver haired wizard away. "'Arry! you absolute arse!" she squealed through the giggles.

Harry laughed lightly as he encircled her curvy figure gently with his larger frame calming the witch, kissing her gently on the crown of her head before laying her face up on the soft mattress.

"You mentioned Murtlap seed oil?" Harry quietly asked the dark-haired witch still sitting on the edge of the bed. She smiled happily before producing a clear glass jar filled with a slightly luminescent liquid a shade lighter than amber. After popping the cork on the jar the air was filled with a subtle fragrance Harry couldn't quite identify; it was not at all, however, unappealing to the young wizard.

"This stuff isn't just for injuries, it's sold in magical beauty parlors too, so why don't you start at the feet and work your way up, Wonderboy," Nym said, coating her palms in the glowing lubricant before wiggling her fingers evilly. Nym flipped the blonde over lightly while snatching the towel off her torso with a flick of her wand, leaving Fleur's perfect heart-shaped bottom, long shapely legs and smooth toned back exposed to the open air.

Nym stripped off her own towel before slinging a leg over her blonde lover's waist, straddling her but careful to keep her full weight off the witch. Harry sat entranced as one nude girlfriend sat squirming underneath another, equally nude girlfriend, positively sinful noises leaving the veela's mouth both from the magic of the therapeutic oil, as well as Nym's apparently equally magical hands. Harry flicked his wand twice, the first movement dimming the lights in the room, while the second conjured a plethora of bluebell flames floating around the room casting a flickering cool glow across all surfaces.

"Nice touch, Wonderboy," Nym grunted softly as she ground her palm into the pliable flesh beneath her, earning a hum of approval from the veela.

"I try," Harry smiled, summoning the jar of oil to his outstretched hand.

The original objective of treating Fleur's injury _was_ eventually completed. After Harry and Nym had worked over Fleur's body inch by inch, they had eventually made it to the scar tissue around her collarbone. But they certainly took their sweet time getting there.

By the time the trio made it to bed, Fleur's limbs felt like noodles in the best of ways and falling into a deep slumber was next to effortless for them all.

 **AN: Once again sorry for the delay, I'll do my best to stick to my schedule from now on.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Revised: 7/19/2019**

 **AN: Look at me late again. My bad, but I feel like not rushing through these chapters and taking breaks is helping me not burn out on the story. For those of you worried about the pacing, I understand, but I don't really see it changing anytime soon since I kinda like writing the day to day scenes. When we get back to Hogwarts I'll obviously not write about every single day and will skip around more. Sorry to those that were expecting a faster pace. That being said, let me know what you think.**

"Here, give this one a go," Nym said with a lazy smirk as she lay facing Harry on one of the many luxurious pillows strewn all across their magically enlarged bed. Harry smiled as the tresses of blue hair that had previously haloed her face on the sheets receded and slid fluidly to a bright green pixie cut. She poked him impatiently prompting Harry to sigh fondly before inhaling as he focused.

After the initial struggle of unlocking his metamorphmagus ability, the process for willingly morphing and holding the transformation combined both mastery over one's emotions and the proper visualization standard to most transfiguration. Harry had become quite capable of the former due to his foundational studies of Occlumency, while the latter came even easier due to the hundreds of hours he had already spent drilling his transfiguration.

He let the minute trickle of magic needed for the morph gradually alter his features, keeping a critical eye on his smirking girlfriend for reference. He could manage singular transformations on his own, but when it came to more complex alterations, the process was significantly easier copying Nym's morphs at first before attempting something from imagination.

The witch in question snickered quietly at the result of Harry's attempt. "Well, you nailed it, Wonderboy, but something tells me that's not your color," she whispered, biting her lip and darting her eyes towards the second witch in their bed, still snoozing peacefully.

Harry followed her eyes to the bundle of sheets that contained Fleur's dozing form with a smile. She was often awake and ready for work before either Harry or Nym even considered getting up over the summer, but given the choice she would sleep the day away sooner than either of them. This was merely the first opportunity that she'd had to indulge in that particular quirk of hers.

By unspoken agreement the two lovers who were already awake hadn't partaken in their usual show of intimacy as they would have normally when such an opportunity presented itself. Harry himself wanted to wait until Fleur had healed completely, and judging from the comparatively reserved mood of the normally flirtatious woman beside him, she felt the same way. The handy thing about working on what little morphing ability he had was the fact that it could be done while cuddling up against the supple skin of the witch.

"Here, try another," Nym murmured, scrunching her nose up cutely as she focused. The length didn't change much, but the once-gravity-defying spikes relaxed into a more windswept-looking disarray. The color was the same dark black that Harry had worn for most of his life, only with subtle streaks of a lighter shade throughout. Nym's eyes shifted to a muted amber, subconsciously choosing a color that would complement the overall look.

He leveled a flat stare at her, having an idea of her motives behind this particular shift. The style was a bit more masculine than she normally wore, and while still flattering with her features Harry had an inkling that it was really intended for himself. He indulged his girlfriend's whims regardless, morphing his comically bright green hair into the significantly tamer style referenced from Nym once more.

His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when the witch nodded in approval, blowing a strand that had fallen in her face. She untangled herself from Harry before flicking her wand out to conjure a mirror for his own inspection, tilting the reflective surface, conveying her request wordlessly.

"I like it," he said smiling faintly, "more like my natural hair but still a bit flashy."

"Of course you do, it _was_ my idea after all," she laughed.

The pair was of course still entirely horizontal, having not mustered the willpower to leave their bed. A point made even more apparent a moment later.

"Per'aps advanced conjurations weren't 'ze best way to keep quiet in 'ze morning, loves," Fleur moaned drowsily, rolling over looking positively radiant despite the bleary, post sleep haze in her eyes. "'Though I appreciate 'ze thought," she amended with a smile, leaning over and pecking them both quickly on the lips

"Sorry, babe," Nym said, smiling crookedly, "but I'm afraid morning's long past." She flicked her wand, the floating blue characters reading '11:30am' proving her point quite adequately.

" _Oui_ , morning." She said simply, expression believably innocent. Harry however knew his bonded was quite aware her tendencies, despite how convincing an actress she was.

"Mhmm sure, we'll let you have your delusions for now, Aphrodite," Nym laughed, flipping gracefully off the bed, the motion doing delicious things to her nude body as she pranced over to their shared bathroom.

Fleur arched her back deliciously, a series of satisfying pops ringing out from the catlike mannerism.

"Feeling better, Fleur?" Harry asked, admiring the veela's sensuously stretch form bathed in the artificial light of the single window of their room.

" _Mmm, oui 'Arry,"_ She moaned softly, further demonstrating her returning range of motion in the comfort of the covers, "I wouldn't mind trying to get a bit more movement in today either," she continued, scrunching her face in a yawn before propping herself up on one elbow and meeting his gaze, her eyes lighting up as she smiled brightly at him.

Harry met her impossibly blue eyes, feeling the familiar thrill that beautiful witch's presence always gave him. It was a sensation entirely separate from the pleasant brush of her allure, originating from nothing more than the mysteries of love. Perhaps Dumbledore was on to something there, it was certainly mystifying, if not powerful in a physical way.

"You're sure you're ready for that?" he probed gently. What Harry called hardheaded Fleur swore was simply diligence. Subjective it may be, but the witch's tendency to push herself was undeniable, though Nym and Harry weren't much better, if in different ways.

"Would you like a demonstration of 'ow _flexible_ I can be, ' _Arry,_ " she purred sensuously, crawling towards him. "Last night was positively divine _mon amour,_ you must let me repay 'ze favor. _"_

Fleur oozed sexuality even to one as acclimated to her presence as Harry, so denying his devilish bonded when she was practically begging for him to have his way with her was a struggle to say the least. He drew in a breath with a hiss, averting his eyes to try to clear his head as the silver-haired young witch watched on with a smug grin, reveling in the effect she had on him.

"Let's see how you feel after a short workout," Harry said taking great effort to resist his temptress of a girlfriend. "If you feel the same way tonight, just _try_ and stop me from taking your up on your offer." The darker timber of Harry's voice at this promise seemed to have the desired effect on the veela, who was obviously relishing the ability to move freely once more. Fleur pursed her lips in mock irritation at his denial. As much as she wished otherwise, it was probably the best not to jump right in to such _strenuous_ activity.

Harry took the opportunity to lavish Fleur's sensitive skin with gentle touches and light kisses, moving tortuously slow down her neck and pausing at her clavicle teasing lightly. Her whimpers were music to his ears, prompting him to continue his ministrations for what could have been twenty seconds or twenty minutes for all Fleur was aware.

oooOoOoOooo

"Probably not the best idea for us, well, _you_ to go to the ministry, I hear they're not your biggest fans right now." Nym drawled lazily in response to Harry questioning her about resuming their training after taking a few days leisure.

"You've got a point," Harry conceded, doing his best to ignore her pulling on a pair of sinfully tight yoga pants, "But why are you dressing like we're going anyway?" Harry added as he eyed her pulling on a black sports bra over her perky c-cups.

"You mean besides driving you _mad_ with lust?" she smirked, turning to check her ass out in the mirror.

"Of course," he answered, as if it was absurd that she even needed to ask that.

Nym barked out laugh as she shook out a fiery red mane of hair that was promptly pulled back into an easy to manage ponytail, while morphing her eyes to a startling combination of dark blue speckled with amber.

Satisfied with her appearance, Nym answered his earlier question. "The Blacks have a space in Grimmauld that they've used as a dueling pit, I assume they used it to train all the midget elites of society. She glanced away, pretending to ignore his flat stare, "It may not have all the same gadgets as the ministry, but we can make due. Besides, Aphrodite should take it easy at first so we won't need many weights if any."

Harry nodded in agreement just as Fleur exited the bathroom having taken her own shower.

Harry took his turn in the shower, while Fleur dressed in a similar manner to her girlfriend. Ten minutes later and the trio had made their way through the dark hallways of Grimmauld with Nym in the lead. Incidentally they somehow managed to make it down several hallways and staircases to the basement level without meeting another resident of the old manor. Harry counted his blessings, their mutual absence at breakfast would have been noted, and it was most likely only Fleur's ward scheme that kept them from being called down as usual in the first place. It wasn't exactly a conversation he was looking forward to, particularly with the female members of the Weasley clan.

The Black Family dueling pit was well-kept enough, as there wasn't really anything that could fall into disrepair. The cobwebs and dust that covered the vast stone room were easy enough for Fleur to clear with a couple short movements of her wand, a flick from Harry's own lit the torches hung in sconces along the walls with a flickering teal flame

The three ran through a light warmup to gauge how well Fleur could handle a bit more stress on her muscles. So far she had not struggled too much with any of the contortions they had asked of her. They quickly fell into a familiar routine, Nym summoning a pillow from the floor above to transfigure into a respectable imitation of a punching bag. Impressive, considering how difficult the significant change in mass made that particular transformation, but it was what he had come to expect from the prodigious metamorph.

 _Impressive, and a bit terrifying,_ Harry amended, watching her scarlet ponytail whip around as she wailed on her target, running through various combinations on muscle memory alone. He whistled playfully across the room before turning to Fleur who had settled a few meters away. They disregarded the raised platform on one side of the room, neither having any intention of using any harmful or destructive magic for the time being.

"Normal rules?" Harry questioned with a grin, slipping his ebony wand into his hand. What little advantage each of his wands gave him in their specialized branches of magic was negligible for this particular game as he would be using charms and transfiguration interchangeably. The goal was to keep a volley going between the two participants, reusing the same material in any way they could think of. The game was a bastardized version of one of Nym's Auror drills that they had taken a liking to playing every once and a while and was quite effective for fine tuning their precision and accuracy in their casting.

Fleur nodded as she drew her rosewood wand and took a relaxed stance, indicating that she was ready.

"Age before beauty," Harry smiled, dipping his head towards his bonded who raised an eyebrow with a flat stare. The piercing intensity of that look did unmentionable things to Harry but he refrained from showing any visible reaction, knowing Fleur would not be above taking advantage of the distraction. Sure enough, a moment later Fleur's wand was twirling intricately through the air, a spiral of orange flame following the motion of her wand before arcing swiftly across the distance between them.

It was a beautiful conjuration all things considered, Fleur's affinity with fire resulted in flawless control, and when paired with her precise and consistent wandwork, an impeccable elemental conjuration was the only logical result.

Not only was this opening so typically 'Fleur,' due to the fire affinity, but also in that it was maddeningly difficult to return an elemental spell without deconstructing the magic manually to fuel your own spell, something none but the most powerful sorcerers were known to able to do. Luckily, the rules of this particular game were purposefully arbitrary, leaving a bit more room for the competitors to get a bit more creative. It ended up being a battle of logic as well as magic in the end more times than not.

Harry mentally shrugged, conjuring a small sphere of water in the path of Fleur's fire. The fire contributing the heat for the resulting billowing steam was easy enough to justify as recycling the original material. He flicked his wand lazily in Fleur's general direction, the steam flowing towards the witch in a lazy spiral.

Fleur condensed the steam back into its liquid state, before freezing the collected orb of water in a flash with a sharp tap of her wand. Harry reassessed the chance of physical harm in what he had deemed a warmup as he barely managed to duck the speeding orb of ice as it whistled overhead from Fleur's banisher.

Harry deftly plucked the ball out of the air with a tug of his magic, sending it speeding back to his opponent, but not before skillfully transfiguring it to stone mid-flight. It had taken a while before Harry had become comfortable flinging concussive objects at his girlfriend while training, but his initial hesitance was quickly beaten out of him. And not in a figurative sense either, Fleur was quite enthusiastic while dissuading him from treating her like some damsel in distress in their initial duels.

A sharp crack echoed throughout the room as the stone sphere exploded into a swarm of wasps, and Harry was not for the first time completely stumped at how she had managed _that._ Perhaps a reducto combined with a mass transfiguration? Fleur tended to lean towards charms for this kind of thing; Harry wouldn't be overly surprised if there were some kind of summoning charm similar to _avis_ that summoned insects instead of birds.

The low hum that filled their air raised goosebumps on his skin as the cloud surged towards him ominously, but Harry put his own skill with the art to use with a mass transformation of the swarm of wasps into a similar number of spiders that dropped soundlessly to the floor and scuttled at a frightening pace towards the silvery blonde witch. Her lip curled into an intimidating yet equally attractive sneer, earning a chuckle from the dark-haired wizard. Harry knew quite well that Fleur's did not discriminate between insects when it came to her general distaste of anything that small and crawly. Her oddly specific aversion was not so debilitating that it would lose her a duel by itself, but it _would_ be a distraction, and Harry had no doubt that she wouldn't be happy with him.

"'Arry!"

 _Yep, there it is._

"Hey, you're the one who started with the insects."

"You know very well 'zat 'zere is a difference between wasps and 'zese… _vermin!"_ she spat, whipping her offhand through the air launching a writhing ball of iridescent flames down into the wave advancing spiders, splattering the swarm into a steaming mess over the stone floor.

Harry had no doubt that Fleur was capable of returning something as simple as the move he had chosen. The most likely reason for her decision to incinerate the pests over a more efficient solution was simply the sheer pleasure she derived from it. Harry sighed. At least if the enchantress thing fell through, she had a fallback career as a muggle exterminator. He couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter at the image of Fleur showing up at someone's home in a beat up van wearing overalls.

He waved off Fleur's questioning glance, biting his lip to keep himself from laughing again. He gestured with his wand for the veela to begin once more. She raised her wand, eyes narrowed in concentration before snapping the tip forward like a whip.

Ironically the sound emitted from her spell wasn't even close to that of a whip, instead being a springy sounding pop. With it, came a trio of sparrows, however Fleur had somehow made them switch between being visible and invisible at staggered intervals as they sped across the distance between the pair. Charms were bullshit like that sometimes, and Fleur was not above taking full advantage of that fact.

Harry immobilized the single bird currently visible to the naked eye, while seizing the two less-visible birds with thin tendrils of his magic, weeks of repetition allowing the skill to come to him effortlessly. Harry wrenched the intricately layered invisibility charm away from the summoned avian, knowing untangling it with any kind of subtlety was beyond his skillset. Cross-species transfiguration was something Harry hadn't put any significant time into mastering beyond his revision late last term, but the lime green and black lizard he sent racing back Fleur's way was impressive still.

They continued along this vein for another two hours or so, Nym eventually swapping in after she had had enough of her melee training. Rounds of the game that had yet to be named between Nym and Harry tended to last a bit longer considering they both specialized in transfiguration, the absence of some of Fleur's more volatile charms leaving more room for error.

It was as Harry dodged one such volatile charm that Sirius nearly ended up as the victim of an errant hail of blades. Why his bonded thought it necessary to fling around such pointy objects was beyond the young wizard's imagination, but he still took a moment to eye Nym knowing the metamorph was the most likely candidate for teaching Fleur that conjuration. She raised her hands and shrugged as if to say, 'What do you want from me?'

"Afternoon, pup," Sirius smirked as he peered around the door once more, having ducked behind it for cover moments earlier. "What have we done to earn the ire of the wonderful Miss Delacour _this_ time?" he joked, wiggling a single brow tauntingly.

Harry barked out a laugh, "Not quite Padfoot. Fleur's just a bit _restless_ after being a bit restricted for the last couple days," he said, eyeing his girlfriend and rubbing his shoulder pitifully.

"Aww, did you get a scratch, 'Arry?" Fleur cooed tauntingly, the side of her pink lips curling up in amusement.

"I'll have you know that I feared for my life there for a second," Harry insisted, pouting in feigned outrage before taking on a more openly pleased expression. "It's good to see you up and about again, Fleur," he smiled, earning one in return from the blonde witch.

Further movement by the doorway alerted him to Hermione slipping in behind Sirius with a curious expression on her face as she peered around the stone room.

"It's not exactly much of anything is it?" Hermione mused quietly.

"Well it's not exactly meant as a gym is it now?" Sirius asked rhetorically, scratching his chin in thought. "It was always more of a ceremonial chamber, for in-house duels and those to settle feuds between families. Nowadays the practice is nearly as extinct as the Blacks themselves."

"Speaking of which Pup, I intend to officially take over your guardianship once I've been cleared of all the crimes the ministry has accused me of. The Black fortune is just wasting away currently and I figured _I_ wouldn't be able to spend it all. I know you'll probably be living somewhere else soon but it might make things easier for you legally in the future. We can talk more about it later though, so you can think about it," the man smiled a bit hesitantly,

Harry paused to consider the implications of such an action, before thanking his godfather profusely, genuinely flattered to be tied by name to the man.

As for the political sway the name offered, Harry had absolutely no interest in it. If it weren't for the fact that Voldemort would be a constant threat looming over his shoulders Harry would be more than happy to leave Magical Britain with the girls and finish his schooling by either self-study or at the countless other schools, perhaps even University would be a possibility. But such a dream was simply not feasible with the Dark Lord still so fixated on him.

Harry had planned to be able to support himself after he got out of school considering the limited funds the Potter's had left him. Regardless of what kind of fortune the Blacks had amassed over the years it wouldn't affect any of his immediate plans; headship wouldn't pass over until Sirius's death, or Harry's twenty-first birthday regardless. Harry had an idea of what Sirius was hinting at, but resolved to hear it from the man himself in the future.

"It shouldn't be too long now, Padfoot," Harry said with a grin rather than voicing any of his thoughts. "I've got a feeling that this farce of a hearing isn't going to go the way the ministry's planning," he added, twirling his willow wand absentmindedly.

"That's a look I've seen more than a few times on your father, pup," Sirius grinned, some of the life returning to the weathered man's eyes. "I'm sure you'll fill me in as we get closer to the day, eh Harry?"

The young wizard in question nodded in agreement before voicing another question. "Did you two come down here for a particular reason or…?" Harry trailed off, tilting his head slightly at Hermione and his godfather.

"I was just curious where you three had run off to, considering you had finally left your room of course," Sirius said with a knowing smirk. "But now that I'm here why don't you give me a demonstration on what you've been up to all summer."

" _Monsieur Padfoot!_ I 'ad no idea 'ze British were so _daring._ " Fleur gasped dramatically, flaring her allure for a brief moment.

The result was of course, spectacular. The moment Sirius registered the implication of his own words coincided perfectly with Fleur's potent aura washing over him, leaving his godfather blushing like a schoolgirl.

Tonks barked out a laugh, "Nice one, Aphrodite, subtle and effective."

Harry couldn't help but agree as he watched his godfather blink rapidly as if staring into a bright light. Harry grinned as Sirius became aware once more after a few moments and took the ribbing from Tonks good naturedly.

"Either Fleur is one _potent_ veela or my tolerance isn't what it used to be," mused the older wizard, smiling self-deprecatingly.

"Probably a bit of both," Harry remarked frankly, "Dementor exposure couldn't have helped much, but funnily enough, Fleur _did_ show you a bit of what we've been up to this summer," he said, smirking at the end.

"What do you mean Harry?" Hermione said, head tilted curiously.

"We came across a branch of magic 'zat gives me a better grasp over my allure," Fleur explained, rolling her neck slowly, sending her silvery hair cascading around her head. "I 'ope Sirius has not taken offence?" she said, turning to the man in question, "from what 'Arry 'as said about you I 'ad assumed you would not 'ave."

The genuine concern shone in her eyes and Sirius was swift to reassure the young veela that it was indeed all in good fun.

"I couldn't exactly confirm it personally but any other male, or anyone that prefers the company of women I should say, would remain unaffected, her precision with the offensive use of her allure has grown exponentially."

Harry's comment was met with impressed glances from both newcomers.

"Why couldn't you confirm it personally," Hermione asked, latching onto Harry's particular phrasing immediately.

He smiled contentedly in response. "I'm a bit… desensitized to Fleur's allure in particular," he said, glancing over to the veela in question and meeting her eyes as he tried to find the words to explain. "It would be a much easier task for me to notice the _absence_ of her allure than it would be for me to feel her using it actively."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully at the explanation while Fleur shot him a sultry smile filled with promises for that night.

"As for showing you what _I've_ been doing this summer…" Harry said flicking his wand with a silent _tempus,_ the spell informing them that it was about half past one.

"Right! Molly wanted me to find you for lunch too!" Sirius interjected suddenly earning a deadpan stare from all of the occupants of the room.

"Just forget it," Harry sighed, "I don't really like eating right after a workout anyway and I'm pretty sure Fleur and Nym are the same?" They both nodded. "Dobby can whip something up if we get hungry before dinner. Still up for a duel?"

The ex-con's eager grin was answer enough so Harry strolled to take a position opposite his godfather. Hermione still seemed a bit anxious to even be _around_ someone breaking the underage wizarding laws, but didn't voice any protest to the impromptu spar, in fact she looked a bit eager herself if the witch's razor focus was anything to judge by.

Harry observed his temporary opponent briefly, ignoring the confident smirk splitting his godfather's face to analyze the older wizard's stance and grip. It seemed that despite the years in Azkaban there were some things that one simply doesn't forget. With legs bent comfortably and his torso turned presenting the smallest possible target, Sirius took a surprisingly traditional dueling stance, though Harry wasn't sure why he was surprised considering the man's background. The Blacks would surely have given some form of schooling to their intended heir before the young teen unceremoniously left the family for good. At least that's what he thought at the time.

"u-19 rules?" Sirius shouted across the distance.

"Of course! Wouldn't want to hurt an old man after all!" Harry snarked back, flicking sparks out of his wand playfully.

They bowed deeply, keeping their eyes trained on each other out of respect rather than distrust. For a moment all was still, before Sirius broke the silence with a twirl of his wand.

A sharp crack not unlike the sound of apperation followed by a flickering blue spell was the result, but as Harry readied himself to sidestep the relatively slow hex, it suddenly detonated in a blinding flash light accompanied by the sound of hundreds of fireworks.

Blinded and deafened, Harry ducked low and to the left to dodge the most likely follow up for such a flamboyant opening. He was apparently successful as he caught the flicker of two spells whizzing past his previous location in his slowly returning vision. Harry snapped off a quartet of blugeoners spread over Sirius' general location, regaining enough of his vision to deflect the next jinx and sidestepping the two that followed.

Sirius was clearly sticking to the plethora of schoolyard jinxes and hexes he held at his disposal, but whether that was due to the restrictions of the dueling guidelines or simply the familiarity of the spells themselves Harry did not know. There was no doubt that the man had many more lethal curses in his repertoire, Sirius' tales of his brief stint as a hit wizard weren't _all_ hyperbole after all.

Harry stepped over a dark purple charm meant to give the feeling of walking through molasses as he strafed slowly across the stone floor, peppering the older wizard's defense with equally harmless jinxes. Sirius's shield's held strong so Harry decided to mix it up a bit, falling back on a more comfortable style relying heavily on transfiguration.

Harry's studies over the summer merely touched briefly on the regulations for the ICW dueling circuit, but the restrictive nature of dueling rules did not suit the young wizard's strengths at all. There _was_ a limit to the weight of projectiles one could use in a u-19 division, but Harry could make due even so. He did just that, weaving a hail of wooden spikes and sending them speeding across the room towards his godfather.

A low powered explosion hex from Sirius was more than strong enough to turn the projectiles to splinters, but Harry didn't let up his assault, mixing up the material of his conjurations, rubber balls and thinner, blunt metal needles that just barely passed the restriction. Sirius danced around Harry's projectiles with a youthful grace while banishing away that which he couldn't avoid. Such a tactic was working, at least until Harry added a couple paint balls to the mix, and Sirius, unaware of the switch banished them as usual.

The thin material containing the paint was torn open nearly instantly by the force of the spell, splattering paint over Sirius' clothes and more importantly, somewhat obscuring his eyesight.

Harry, taking the extra time to focus considering the distance, began to animate the debris cluttered around Sirius feet. A rippling tendril of splintered wood and shards of metal latched onto the older wizard's ankle as he attempted to flee the three stunners that Harry followed up with. Mobility restricted, Sirius managed to parry all three scarlet spells but was sent sprawling by the silent tripping jinx that Harry had slipped in behind the vibrant light of the stunners.

Learning to cast particularly wordy charms silently was one of the best uses of someone wishing to pursue dueling on a competent level. A wordless _pretrificus totalus_ in particular was extremely easy to abuse with its quick missile speed and practically invisible appearance. Harry was quite happy to utilize such an advantage in this situation, sending said petrification hex speeding after the tumbling wizard.

To the green-eyed teen's surprise, Sirius managed a half-formed duelist's shield, somewhat weakening the effects of the charm if his retained motor skills, sluggish as they may be, were anything to judge by. Considering Sirius was not actually restricted, a simple _finite_ was enough to return his dexterity but it was too late as Harry had already sent a _levicorpus_ and _incarcerous_ sailing towards the downed wizard expecting to end the duel. Sirius raised his wand but from Harry's view the man would not be fast enough to block the two-spell finisher.

At least until Harry was wrenched suddenly by an unknown force into the air by the ankle with an undignified squawk.

Harry glanced around briefly to make sure Sirius wasn't following up on whatever magic had connected, but let out a sigh seeing the man in question trying to squirm out of the conjured ropes from his second spell. Ignoring Fleur and Nym's giggles at his predicament, Harry canceled what appeared to be his own levicorpus before flipping athletically to land in a crouch.

Harry took a moment to catch his breath before he strolled over to where Sirius was still attempting to wriggle out of his involuntary cocoon.

"Do you yield?" Harry asked redundantly.

"Yeah, yeah," the older wizard grumbled halfheartedly, accepting Harry's proffered hand after the younger wizard released his bindings. "I should have seen that animation coming," Sirius sighed with a wistful smile, "I couldn't tell you how many times I've seen James send Snivelus on his ass the same way."

"Speaking of which, Padfoot," Harry said, breaking Sirius out of his memories. "What happened to my levicorpus earlier?"

"Ah that!" Sirius said, barking out a laugh. "Schoolyard jinxes go in and out of style as all trends do, _that_ particular spell was real' popular back in the day. I mean it's no wonder why, right?" He finished rhetorically.

Harry nodded, seeing what the man meant, but Hermione interrupted with a raised hand, earning a laugh from Nym. The brunette witch seemed torn on what to ask about first but eventually settled on asking about what Sirius was talking about, drooling at the promise of a more productive summer than her usual fare. Apparently their quick demonstration had swayed her to take advantage of such an opportunity.

"It's a charm with no visible projectile that's absurdly easy to cast silently," Harry said shrugging. "The first time Tonks showed me the spell I accidently flipped her just miming the wand movement and thinking the incantation."

"There were a couple years there were you could barely walk down to the Great Hall without getting dangled by your ankles," Sirius added, nodding along with Harry's explanation. "Well your mother you see finally was fed up with what she considered 'the behavior of untrained muts with no self-respect.' Can you _believe_ she would say that?! To _me_!" the man exclaimed, appearing seriously affronted.

"Uh huh."

"Yup."

" _Oui,_ "

"It _does_ seem a bit like you, Sirius," came Hermione's tentative reply.

The man in question wiped an imaginary tear away, pouting comically.

"So my mother?"

"Right… it was seventh year and Lils was fed up with all our "immaturity" so she, brilliant and terrifying witch that she is, deconstructs the charm and designed a counter-curse that reflects the magic. Now, spell creation is impressive by itself but the brilliance of this little trick was that it was nearly as easy to learn as the spell itself. You shoulda' seen your father's face the first time she pulled _that_ one out." Sirius said snickering in remembrance.

He tried to cast levicorpus on Harry's mum!?" Hermione gasped incredulously.

"God, no, James wouldn't have dreamed of doing something like that, well they'd jinx each other in jest after they got married," he amended, grinning wryly. "Before that he would have been terrified to upset the woman. James definitely adored the _girl_ before he loved the _woman_ ," he added softly.

A comfortable silence settled over them for a moment before Harry broke it rising to his feet once more. "How about you teach me that counter, then we go best of three?"

"Ooo me too," Hermione said eagerly, and Fleur and Nym perked up in interest as well.

Sirius laughed lightly before flicking out his wand preparing to demonstrate the wand movements, but before he could begin the door banged open once more, this time by an irate Mrs. Weasley most likely searching for Harry himself.

"Harry James Potter! Skipping breakfast is one thing but to think you've been gallivanting around all through lunch as well. Up you go, must get you filled up before we get to work today, I think we'll be able to finish the first floor storage rooms if you hurry." The redheaded matron's shrill voice cut through the air like a bullet causing Harry to tense momentarily.

"I'm sorry if you were waiting on us, Molly, but we weren't really hungry and Fleur was really anxious to get a workout in. As for the work on the house, you obviously have the right to make your own children clean the house for chores but we ah… didn't exactly come here by choice; no offence Padfoot."

"None taken, pup, I imagine you were quite enjoying your holidays so far," the man grinned, shooting a glance at the Fleur and Tonks.

"I'm more than grateful that the Order is offering protection, but as far as cleaning the house I have no reason to do so when I could be doing something much more productive. I've been studying and training all summer, Mrs. Weasley and I don't intend to stop just because I'm no longer living with Fleur an— alone anymore, especially not for busywork that would go by three times as fast with magic," he tacked on, with a hint of accusation in his tone.

Mrs. Weasley appeared a bit stunned, as if none of her kids had ever talked back like that, and it was quite possible they hadn't, fearing the Weasley matron's legendary wrath. Harry felt a bit bad bringing more stress into the mother's life so soon after hearing what had happened with her third oldest. But it was even more important to Harry that he retained his newly gained sense of freedom regardless of his temporary stay in the dreary Black manor.

"I would be more than happy to join you all for dinner if you'll still have me," Harry said as somewhat of a peace offering. The effect was subtle but some of the light returned to the woman's eyes.

"Oh, very well then, best get started," she muttered before smiling and leaving to clamber back up the staircase.

The silenced stretched out for a moment before Nym spoke up, "Well done, Harry, you have a way with calming that woman down that _I'll_ never understand.

He shrugged before turning back to his Godfather and motioning for him to show him the spell, the impromptu study session continuing well into the afternoon.


	24. Chapter 24

**Revised: 7/19/2019**

 **AN: Late again, sorry about that. There's a lemon in the first section of this chapter for those of you that skip over that sort of thing. I only mention it because it's been a while since the last one, and after proofreading it, it seemed a bit more graphic than I remember writing the others, so just a heads up. Other than that, enjoy the chapter.**

Supper was a fairly uneventful affair, the Weasley clan being as boisterous as usual during mealtimes, the only two exceptions being Molly and her youngest son.

The reason behind the former's somber mood was quite obvious considering the conversation Harry had had with her hours earlier. It was both expected and understandable for the woman to want what she thought was best for her children, and Harry could only be flattered that the kind, if slightly overbearing witch considered him a part of that family in the first place.

The source of Ron's downright grating attitude however was still a mystery to the green-eyed wizard. While not always the most pleasant person to be around, Ron's behavior was reminding him a lot of how he had acted before the first task of last year's tournament, even if his ire was not always directed towards Harry himself. Quick to anger at the slightest provocation, and seemingly arguing, mostly with Hermione, simply for the sake of it rather than their admittedly frequent disagreements.

The witch in question was as baffled by this development as much as Harry, always quick to defend the redhead with the fact that he had been perfectly agreeable all summer, his aggression only starting the day previously. Harry couldn't help but agree with the point, his observations aligning with her own despite only recently coming to Grimmauld himself. Perhaps a part of it was wishing to see the best in his longtime friend, but Harry certainly felt that all was not well with the young wizard.

Inquiries aimed at the boy in question were fruitless, only serving to irritate him even more, so Harry had taken a more hands off approach to the whole situation. Ron was important to him, but Harry had not intention of sacrificing the rest of his summer chasing after someone who did not want nor appreciate his concern.

Harry had _much_ more pressing matters to attend to after all, one such matter being the predicament in which he currently found himself in.

He stood dressed in only a light pair of cotton pants with his torso left bare, proudly displaying the symbolic graphic inked into the skin of his lean torso. His pulse pounded just under the surface as a blonde goddess prowled slowly across the short distance separating them, her delicate bare feet soundless on the wood flooring of their shared bedroom. Fleur's open robe did nothing to hide her mouthwatering figure, obscured only by a lace bra and matching panties which arguably only added to her appeal.

Fleur stopped just short of where Harry stood by the door, tilting her head up slightly with a predatory gaze despite Harry now being taller than the gorgeous veela. The witch's magic swirled around her in a maelstrom of sexual energy, tangible to one as attuned to Fleur as her bonded.

"You 'ave made me wait long enough, 'Arry," she whispered, leaning in tantalizingly close to his own lips.

"You act like I _chose_ not to make love with you for the hell of it Fleur," Harry murmured with a grin, leaning closer himself at the same pace. "I assure you, that was _not_ the case…"

" _Oui,"_ she smiled, nuzzling his neck before lightly nipping at the sensitive skin, "'owever it does not mean 'zat I 'ave to like it, _non?"_

"It wasn't exactly a walk in the park for us either," Harry gasped, reveling in the sensation of Fleur's tongue trailing up to tease at the shell of his ear. His hand's came to gently rest at her impossibly slender waist as he inhaled the familiar scent of her silvery blonde locks.

"I see," she murmured, pausing her ministrations for a moment leaving Harry with a sense of anticipation. "I must ask some'zing of you, _mon amour_ ," she said, pulling back slightly and gazing up at him through hooded eyes."

"Anything," Harry's answered honestly, truly prepared to do whatever it took to make her happy.

Fleur dimpled a grin at the sincere response before her gaze took on a more seductive quality. "Do not make love to me 'Arry, I want you to show me how much you missed this." Her piercing blue eyes burrowed to his soul, "I want you to _fuck_ me."

The tension that had built up over the past few days seemed to snap immediately as soon as Harry's mind process her request, the vulgar phrasing used by his relatively proper lover kicking his lust for the woman into overdrive.

Harry descended on Fleur's soft lips, both lovers engaging in an aggressive tango of their tongues while the hands of both parties began a more thorough exploration of their lover's body. Harry's hands drifted down from Fleur's waist to cup her curvy rear, the witch wrapping her impossibly long legs around his waist as they continued to aggressively make out. The room was filled with nothing but the appreciative whimpers and grunts of the lovers finally coming together once more, the air slowly becoming stifling with their exertions.

Harry swiftly spun the beautiful witch around, slamming her roughly into the door he had previously been leaning against, barely pausing his liplock to hear her appreciative squeak before diving in once more. He trailed a hand up along her spine to quickly snap Fleur's bra open and tossed it unceremoniously over his shoulder, leaving her sizable breasts standing proudly on her chest. He took a moment to appreciate the view before latching his lips onto a nipple, nipping lightly earning an encouraging moan from his blonde lover.

Fleur was not idle, grinding wonderfully against his groin, where his painfully erect member stretched the material of his pants, practically crying to be freed.

"Bed. Now." Fleur managed between kisses, raking her hands through his hair, now an even more unruly mess than usual.

Harry grunted an agreement, immediately complying with the demand as he crossed the distance between the door and the bed in a few strides. He grinned at Fleur's squeal as he tossed her lithe figure bodily onto the bed, a pillow sliding underneath her lower back at the last second seemingly of its own accord.

Such an occurrence was curious but Harry had much more pressing matters to attend to, such as the buxom blonde beneath him, practically begging for him with both her eyes and magic alike. Harry was nothing if not a gentleman and it would be a most heinous crime to keep a lady waiting.

Fleur stretched a leg towards him before using a toe to dexterously pull his sleepwear down finally freeing his aching cock to the open air. The veela brushed teasingly against his member as she withdrew her foot, cocking an eyebrow as if to say 'what are you waiting for?'

Harry, having no answer to the unspoken query, crawled on all fours up along her body, caging her predatorily with his limbs. A distant part of his mind registered the irony of the reversal of their roles from minutes earlier. He leaned in tauntingly as she had, only with the added temptation of his swollen member brushing against the last material barrier between their long-awaited joining.

Frustrated at being made to wait even a moment longer, the hormonal veela burnt through the lace around her hips with a careful application of passionfyre leaving her hairless snatch exposed. The evidence of her arousal glistened in the dim lighting of the room as Harry teased the head of his cock around her opening, smearing her natural lubricant over the surface and relishing his lover's response as he lightly brushed over her exposed clit.

"Tell me what you want Fleur." he demanded in an uncharacteristically husky voice, his normally vibrant green eyes smoldering in unrepressed want as they bore into her own crystal blue. There was something particularly arousing about hearing such a proud woman beg for his cock and Harry couldn't help but want to hear the words leave her lips once more.

"God damn it 'Arry! fuck me if you know what's good for you!" she snarled, nails raking down his back and pulling his hips closer to her own in a more tactile demand. Her eyes narrowed slightly while her normally soft features becoming a bit more angular, signs obvious to Harry of her veela heritage manifesting in particularly agitating situations.

She had never looked more beautiful.

Harry sank the tip of his member into her willing entrance with an involuntary sigh of relief matched by Fleur's more audible ecstatic cry. Luckily permanent silencing wards were some of the first Fleur had… erected for their room, ensuring their privacy. Slowing his thrust was neither wanted nor necessary leaving Harry free to bury all seven inches into his willing lover, leaving their hips flush as Harry took a moment to acclimate to the sensation of being deep insider her once more. It had been mere days since he had last had the pleasure, but after being quite active with both of his partners for most of the summer, coupling with Fleur once more was like finding an oasis in the middle of a scorching desert.

Harry pulled back leaving only the tip parting her lips before burying himself to the hilt once more earning an appreciative grunt from the blonde goddess beneath him. _'Aphrodite indeed'_ he mused, biting his lip in concentration as he set a steady rhythm, meeting Fleur for another heated kiss as they desperately rutted against one another.

Fleur was no idle participant as she rolled her hips devilishly as he pounded into her from above amplifying the pleasure felt by both. A delicate hand snaked down to Harry's own toned bottom, nails biting into pale flesh as she encouraged his thrusting.

" _Oui!_ 'arder 'Arry!" she cried, melodious voice piercing through the slapping of damp flesh and various other sounds of the lover's coupling. Harry picked up the pace even more, the delicious friction between their bodies sending her breasts jiggling wonderfully, evoking a certain primal satisfaction from the young wizard. The torturous foreplay combined with the absolute affection he held for the witch beneath him had Harry approaching the edge, but he would be damned if Fleur didn't get off after being so patient.

Luckily it seemed that Fleur's own arousal dwarfed even his own, and Harry, seeing the signs of her impending orgasm, doubled his efforts to finish her off. He rolled his hips hoping to hit that sweet spot that rarely failed to drive the veela mad, a serendipitous discovery from their repeated sexual encounters over the summer.

It was when the hand fisted in his hair tightened like a vice that he knew he had found it, making sure to not adjust his rhythm at all while probing the same bundle of nerves at a steady pace. He was rewarded with Fleur's repeated mews of pleasure in response to every thrust and the knowledge that she was as close to the end as he was himself. A moment more was all it took as her heels clamped around his hips, keeping him fully sheathed while her flesh spasmed rhythmically around his member.

Having done his duty, Harry finally surrendered to his own release. Not that he had much of a choice with how amazingly erotic it was to see his Fleur cum by his own hand. He practically painted her insides with result of his orgasm, forearms flexing with the effort of propping his body up over hers before finally collapsing over her nubile figure from the exertion.

How long he lay there Harry did not know, only becoming aware again when a deceptively thin arm flipped him over, the veela attached to it still joined with him at the hips, grinning deviously down at him.

"You didn't 'zink I was done wiz' you now, did you 'Arry?" she questioned, eyes promising retribution for a misspoken word.

Fortunately this was a request Harry was only too happy to oblige, and as Fleur started to slowly undulate her hips, dragging them tortuously back and forth, there was only one thought on the young wizard's mind,

" _Merlin_ I love this woman."

oooOoOoOooo

The delightful aches resulting from the night before was the first sensation that registered to Harry as he woke up the following morning. The next being the hushed conversation between who he assumed was Nym and Fleur, the former having come to bed sometime after they had settled down for the night.

"'Zank you for last night," Harry heard Fleur murmur beside him. For a moment, he was confused, thinking she was speaking to him, but the response from Nym moments later had him relaxing once more.

"I have no idea what you're talkin' about, hun."

Fleur's soft laugh was clear in the relative silence of the room. "As if I didn't notice you conveniently disappear after supper for a few hours."

"I know, right! I thought I was gonna' have to sleep on the couch there for a sec," Nym snickered.

"Quiet you!" Fleur said through giggles, the bed rocking slightly from what Harry assumed was a playful shove. "You know we missed you last night too," Fleur added, tone growing a bit more sincere.  
"I know," Nym said, the grin evident in her voice. "I'd be more than happy to take you up on that offer _now_ babe, but anyone'd have to be delusional to miss the fact that you two will _always_ have something special. It doesn't diminish what _we_ have, but the bond between you two is obvious, and you obviously needed _him_ yesterday."

Harry smiled drowsily at the murmurs of his two partners. It was true, Nym had practically shoved him up the stairs the previous night, not that he really needed to be encouraged, Fleur hadn't exactly been subtle up until that point. However it put his mind at ease to hear that the metamorphmagus had such understanding of the bonds between the three of them. Despite meshing incredibly well, their partnership wasn't exactly a typical one, and keeping it balanced was always on the back of his mind.

He didn't deserve either of them...

" _Oui_ 'Arry, but didn't anyone ever tell you 'zat eavesdropping is rude?

It seemed that Harry's last thought wasn't as silent as he believed, however it wasn't the worst thing to blurt out to one's lovers.

"Perhaps you might want to pick a better place for covert conversation then, loves," Harry laughed, rolling over and pecking them each softly on the lips, "Morning, you two."

"Morning, Loverboy," Tonks smirked, "I'm surprised Aphrodite here didn't wear you out last night." Harry only met her stare with a raised eyebrow head on, not that he had any chance of outlasting the witch in a staring contest. He hadn't ever asked directly but he was quite sure she could create some kind of reptilian second eyelid with her abilities.

They seemed to crack at the same time, before high fiving over Fleur's prone form with an echoing crack and matching grins.

"Ugh! Children!" Fleur huffed with a scowl before burying herself under the covers. A look was all that was needed before they flopped bodily over the lump of bedding earning an indignant squeal from the silver haired witch that eventually devolved into peals of laughter. The grins shared by Harry and Nym shone with determination as their eyes met once more, as long as they could keep each other safe, everything else would eventually fall into place. Avoiding another close call like that would be the highest priority from that point on.

After Fleur had conceded her defeat and resurfaced Nym spoke up, "So any special plans for the day birthday boy?"

 _Oh._

Harry paused, brows furrowed, taking a moment to count back the days. The summer had sped by absurdly fast considering everything that had happened, but he couldn't help but have a bit of pride at all he had accomplished in so little time.

Harry was brought out of his musings by a small package nudging insistently at the back of his hand, Fleur having levitated it over to him while he'd been lost in thought. He plucked the unassuming box out of the air, scrutinizing its plain blue wrapping as Fleur watched on with a fond smile.

"I'd love to say 'zat last night was a part of my gift 'Arry, but I 'ave to admit 'zat it was for purely selfish reasons," the veela in question commented, her grin turning a bit dreamier.

"I promise you'll have no complaints from me the next time you want to be selfish," Harry said, grinning but not taking his eyes off the package. There was _something_ inside that bled enough magic show up to Harry's fledgling sensing abilities, but beyond that he would have to open it to find out any more.

He did so, tearing the wrapping in seconds before pulling the top off the flat box. Inside was what appeared to be a simple left-handed glove made of a light gray material that was very obviously _not_ natural.

"It is from boz' of us," Fleur said, breaking his focus on the glove.

"Hardly!" Nym scoffed, turning to Harry, "Aphodite did all the work. I just got her around some legal speedbumps."

"Disregarding 'zis country's idiotic restrictions on demiguise 'air," Fleur insisted, frowning cutely Nym is just being modest, it is from us boz."

"What exactly is _it?"_ Harry asked, picking up the glove curiously. It had a texture not unlike his invisibility cloak, though a bit sturdier and much less fluid than the cloak that practically felt like liquid silk. Pulling the glove over his left hand he (unsurprisingly) found that it was a perfect fit and quite comfortable, but beyond that and its obviously magical nature it seemed like an ordinary glove.

"Well I was experimenting a bit wiz' 'ow witches and wizards charm our clothes, looking into somehow making 'ze charms more permanent. Our robes can have every'zing from as simple as a resizing charm to some'zing outlandish such as animated images. It really is quite interesting 'ow some seamstresses will—"

"Babe, you're rambling," Nym interrupted, poking her in the side and earning a slight flush from the witch.

"Right, so 'ze twins' invisibility 'at gave me 'ze idea. Enchanting some'zing like 'zey did results in a weak product, good for mass production but lacking in longevity." Harry nodded, urging her to go on.

"I wanted to see what would 'appen if I enchanted 'ze thread _before_ it was woven into the final product." Fleur smiled, quite satisfied with the result. "Enchanting something in the first place makes it somewhat resistant to magic already, but having that same effect physically interlocked adds a complexity to the enchantment while strengthening it exponentially. The results were… well see for yourself."

Fleur rolled over him and hopped out of bed and, heedless of her nudity, took a few steps away before turning with her wand aloft.

Having some idea of what she wanted, Harry held his gloved hand up with his palm facing Fleur's wand tip. The spell she fired was a simple sneezing jinx, slow-moving, harmless and obviously just for show. But Harry's wonder was not lessoned as the opaque mass of light purple energy sat vibrating vigorously just inches from his fingertips.

"Impressive," Harry breathed out as he clenched his fist causing the spell to dissipate into the air. Fleur's smug grin said it all as she sauntered her way back to the bed, this time taking her sweet time to crawl over him once more.

"I wouldn't try to "catch" any blood boilers, Harry, but aside from curses of that caliber and physical attacks it'll repel them just like that," Nym added, apparently having helped test Fleur's creation. "Oh, and its also quite handy for stabilizing the upper class elemental spells we've been working on lately, though I'd stick to shields and dodging against an opponent's.

"So it's got the Tonks seal of approval?" Harry asked cheekily, earning a playful slug for his troubles.

"Damn right it does! Oh, and check this out," Nym said excitedly, tapping her own wand onto the back of Harry's glove, which immediately faded out of existence. It was a property similar to his wand holsters which in addition to being invisible didn't even give the sensation of being there in the first place. Handy, considering Harry didn't exactly want to walk around with a single glove on his hand, nor did having to pull on a glove in a pinch sound particularly appealing. He tapped his own wand experimentally to confirm it was a simple as it looked. Another tap and it was invisible once more.

"Brilliant!" He said simply, kissing the pair once again. Harry was still a bit shaken that he had turned nineteen without having realized, not that he felt particularly different, age _was_ just a number after all.

"Hey Wonderboy," Nym said leadingly after a moment. "Fleur may claim selfish motivation, but I can't let myself be outdone, now can I?" She asked rhetorically, a devious look crossing her face.

"No, I suppose not," Harry mused, playing along.

"Care to join me in the shower, Harry?"

Nym was _very_ enthusiastic with this particular gift.

oooOoOoOooo

Breakfast was just starting as Harry, Fleur and Nym leisurely made their way down the main staircase after a _long_ shower.

"Oh, Harry dear! I was afraid I was going to have to send one of the boys up for you," was the natural greeting from Mrs. Weasley, though the narrowed eyes at his two companions told him that she was growing suspicious of what was going on with their rooming situation. Nym _did_ have a room in Grimmauld that she had used occasionally before meeting Harry, and Fleur _may_ have implied that she'd been sharing with the metamorph. The fact that the room hadn't been touched since they'd arrived would most likely clue her in eventually, but for now the three were content with their privacy.

"Morning, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, eyeing the impressive spread of dishes covering the table.

"Happy birthday, dear," she said, smiling brightly and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

Her greeting, minus the hug, was echoed by the various members of the Weasley clan situated around the table. Hermione rose from her seat next to Ron to wrap him into an embrace of her own.

"You took your time coming down, Harry, I wonder what could have kept you occupied for so long," she asked leadingly, "you really shouldn't spend your summers lazing around in bed."

Hermione's comment would seem innocuous enough to an outside observer and entirely true to her personality, but the knowing glint in her eye told him she knew _exactly_ what had held him up. Unfortunately, it seemed that Ron had understood her implication as well, scowling darkly before speaking up himself.

"Yeah yeah, now that we've all waited for _Wonderboy_ over here to grace us with his presence can we eat?!" The derisive way the redhead sneered Nym's pet name for Harry was obviously not meant in a friendly way, silencing the several conversations across the table.

Harry peered curiously at his long-time friend, wondering not for the first time in the last few days what had made the boy so confrontational. Harry had long since learned to let such petty insults effect his mindset, though whether due to maturing personally or the lack of negative energy influencing his mind from the—

 _No… it couldn't be that simple…_

"—you will apologize right this _instant_! You are a guest in this house, and you will _act_ like it!" The sound of Molly shrilly berating her youngest son for his careless words brought Harry out of his musings as he took in the scene once more.

"Well, really we're _all_ guests in this house," Harry smiled, nodding pointedly over to Sirius who had just come down the stairs himself. "Morning, Padfoot," Harry added, sharing a one-armed hug with his godfather.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" the man grinned, "Remus should be coming around sometime later today, I know he wouldn't want to miss the chance to see you."

Harry nodded as he led Nym and Fleur to the table as Harry himself was feeling famished, and wouldn't be surprised if the other two were the same.

"For future reference, feel free to start eating without me, I know I'm not always up consistently at the same time. It'd be unreasonable of me to expect you to wait," Harry said frankly as he took a seat in between the two witches, just to the right of where Ron sat with Hermione.

"I guess we shouldn't ever expect you on time then huh? Since you've got _those_ two always at your beck and call like some sort of ponce." Ron's biting statement cut through all conversation once again. Such an implication would have definitely gotten a rise out of Harry had he not already had his own suspicions behind Ron's behavior.

"You've gone too far oh brother of mine," George spoke up as he rose from his seat to Fleur's right, his twin following close behind. The pair had seemed quite fond of Fleur in the brief time they had known the witch, and hearing their brother badmouth her, indirectly or not, had them seething.

Harry was glad to see others appreciate her brilliance the same way he did himself, but for now he had more pressing matters to take care of. Namely, preventing the twins from utilizing their own version of 'discipline' on their younger brother.

"Ron, this may seem a bit strange but have you picked up anything in the last couple of days around the house?"

"What!? So now you're calling me a thief, Potter?" Ron snarled back defensively, ignoring Hermione's admonishment entirely.

"Right…sorry about this Ron," Harry muttered under his breath as he palmed his ebony wand.

One moment both boys were seated, then the next the slightly taller redhead was pinned with his arms splayed tightly to the dark walls of Grimmauld's dining room. The leather bands Harry had swiftly conjured held well enough against Ron who was raging and spitting obscenities at his eerily calm captor.

"Harry! Stop it you're hurting him!" Hermione cried as she navigated the toppled chairs between her and the young wizard.

"Nym," Harry called softly, not taking his eyes off his still struggling friend in front of him. The older witch, recognizing Harry's meaning caught the young brunette as she went to grab him in the redhead's defense. Though Hermione did struggle until Harry spoke up once more.

"You're misunderstanding, Hermione," Harry said distractedly, trailing his wand carefully through the air to remove Ron's sweater. Now that he was actively looking for it he noticed the faint thrum of power centered around the redhead's chest. What would be imperceptible under normal circumstances now seemed… almost agitated, or perhaps fearful?

"Though he hasn't been the most… courteous person to be around lately," Harry said, eyeing the sliver of gold chain exposed around his friend's neck. "…It may not have been his fault."

An attempt to pull the chain over Ron's head with his magic proved fruitless, so Harry instead slit the collar of his shirt to expose a plain gold locket embossed with an ornate silver 'S.'

"Is it presumptive of me to say this isn't his?" Harry asked the room at large.

The Weasley's who had been a bit stunned at Harry's efficient dismantling of his friend, paused a moment before answering in the negative. The chances of this being some random trinket Ron had picked up around Grimmauld was slowly dwindling as he noted Ginny unconsciously retreating away from her brother, or more specifically the locket, as her actions had all but confirmed Harry's suspicions. He'd have been surprised if the young witch _wasn't_ more sensitive to _this_ particular magic.

Harry frowned, pondering how to remove the piece of jewelry safely. "Sirius, d'you recognize this at all?" He said, motioning the man over.

"Hmmm, it's not the Black crest, nor any other family I learned about as a kid. It's more likely to be a personal piece," he said, tossing in his two cents as he leaned forward slightly for a better view.

Harry smiled before tapping the back of his fist with his wand, revealing the fabric covering his hand. "I assume this would be safe to handle a potentially cursed artifact Fleur?"

She grinned sardonically despite the situation, "Avoiding direct contact with 'ze skin is usually enough 'Arry, but to answer your question yes there should be no problem."

The observers watched on as Harry carefully looped the chain past his friend's ginger mop of hair, careful avoiding the metal itself. As soon as the chain left Ron's neck, it was as if all the tension slowly drained out of his body, no longer actively straining against his bonds.

"You ok there, Ron?" Harry asked after canceling the charm muting the taller wizard's speech.

His expression was equal parts confusion and regret, "I… I don't know, Harry."

Harry sighed, "I'd be surprised if you were." He turned away, releasing his control over Ron's restraints letting him drop the short distance to the ground. The boy stumbled slightly, but managing to stay on his feet. "Sirius, can you floocall Dumbledore? I had hoped we'd be able to put off this discussion for a while, but it seems fate has other plans as usual."

The unassuming locket that was the root of such disorder on what had started as a normal day simply glinted ominously in the dim lighting of Grimmauld place, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. An item capable of forcing cancerous thoughts into another witch or wizard's mind was frightening enough, but a scarce few in the room had an idea of the necklace's true nature.

As unfortunate as the circumstance were, this could be a gift in disguise. One less of those abominations to hunt down could only be a good thing… Harry wasn't sure whether to pity or be disgusted by someone driven to the point were they would create a horcrux, let alone a set of them…

 _What did the world do to you, Riddle?_

 **AN: I've done my best to be ambiguous about the date but if anyone recalls something I've said in previous chapters that conflicts with it being the 31st then a pm is always appreciated. I'll do my best to not be late again. Until next time.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Revised: 7/19/2019**

 **AN: Such a long wait for the chapter and for that I apologize. My usual release date was over my vacation for the 4th and I was out of town for a week after that, not to mention I had next to nothing written _before_ I left in the first place. Luckily this chapter came pretty quickly to me once I _did_ get started writing and was finished within days. I think its pretty good considering the long gap but as usual let me know if you think otherwise and how I can improve.**

 **Also I'll be able to get one more chapter out before I move for college, after which updates might slow down based on how busy I am for my first semester. I do enjoy writing this story so I doubt they will stop entirely, just don't expect them as frequent (yeah right!) as they were before.**

Harry sat with a hint of impatience as Dumbledore examined the gold locket with nearly a dozen intricate wand motions that were, frankly, beyond the young wizard's understanding. Fleur, on the other hand, seemed to recognize some and memorize others if her narrowed eyes were anything to judge by. Nym was leaning casually against the wall near the door of the small room, giving the appearance of an uninterested bystander, but she was anything but, as demonstrated by the subtle twitching of her wand hand. The witch was primed and ready to leap into action at a moment's notice.

The wizened headmaster had arrived quite swiftly through Grimmauld Place's floo after being hailed by Sirius at Harry's request, immediately and effortlessly taking charge with naught but his commanding presence. Ron was quickly ushered towards Madam Pomphrey who had slipped in behind the headmaster through the fireplace, where the practiced mediwitch began running various diagnostic charms in an effort to determine any adverse effects from whatever the cursed locket had done to the boy. Hermione and the members of the redhead's family present at the time, hovered at a respectable distance, worried for the boy but hesitant to interrupt the matron's work.

Which left Sirius, who was more than a little perturbed at being told to wait with the Weasleys while Dumbledore spoke with Harry and the girls alone. Relenting only after his godson motioned for him to listen to the Headmaster for the time being.

Harry wouldn't normally have agreed with the request, but was certain of one particular topic Dumbledore would want to discuss, and despite the implicit trust Harry had for his Godfather, he had a feeling the headmaster would be more reluctant to share what he knew if there was a larger audience. Harry assumed the man would feel the same about Fleur and Tonks had they not already been privy to everything he knew himself as it was obvious by this point that they held no secrets from one another.

"So? What's the verdict, doc?" Tonks drawled from her perch by the door.

The man in question finished one last charm before letting the locket settle back on the table top, deceptively ordinary in its appearance. He appeared to ponder the question for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in thought before turning to the three. "Have you any idea of what we've stumbled upon here, Harry?" he said rather than answer Nym's question.

"I thought we'd been over this before sir," Harry said calmly, "answering a question with a question just to keep as much information to yourself isn't going to get us anywhere." Harry narrowed his gaze a bit and Dumbledore at least had the decency to look a bit chagrined. "That being said, for the sake of saving time I'll admit we've had an idea of what these _abominations_ are ever since the mishap I mentioned a couple days ago."

"Very well, my boy," he conceded, his whole body wilting as though parting with the information was leeching his very life force. "I had hoped to keep you shielded from such terrors, but as you've very obviously discovered, Voldemort, though at the time he may still have been going by Tom Riddle, felt it necessary in his pursuit of true immortality to create a horcrux."

" _A_ horcrux, sir?" Harry cut in, a hint of irritation slipping into his tone.

"At first," Dumbledore conceded, "but as you so adamantly suggest, one failsafe was not nearly enough security for Tom, considering how paranoid the young man had grown by this point in his life." The next part was whispered almost inaudibly. "Incidentally, that is one of the most likely reasons your parents were targeted that fateful night."

"C'mon, old man, enough with the riddles, we have enough of them to deal with as it is," Nym growled from the corner. "Let me take a guess. It has something to do with why you've been sticking order members outside of the department of mysteries for the last week?"

Dumbledore's expression did not change, however his lack of a response was answer enough. Though after all this time Harry was unsure of why the man was still so reluctant to part with information. Perhaps Albus had played his part for so long he's just physically incapable of breaking the habit. Regardless, it was clearly important if it was worth guarding at such a crucial point.

"Sirius mentioned a weapon," Harry hedged, "does this have anything to do with that? Is Riddle still after it?"

Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh, deflating even further and for once looking his one hundred and fifty years. "There was a prophecy," the man began. "that spoke of the downfall of the dark lord…"

oooOoOoOooo

The silence of the room was deafening as the trio processed what Dumbledore had just revealed to them. His two life partners moved to embrace him in support, Fleur gluing herself to his side and Nym squeezing in between the two as wrapping an arm over would be impractical due to her current height.

"Zis changes nothing _mon amour,"_ Fleur murmured comfortingly, her breath tickling his ear.

"She's right, you know," Nym added, "The madman was after you for as long as we can remember, now we just know _why_."

Harry nodded tiredly, acknowledging both of their points as valid. It really wasn't the threat of Voldemort that was weighing him down currently, more so the implications of Dumbledore's explanation. He said as much, eyeing the old man indirectly responsible for so many of the tragedies of his life.

"I'm not sure what's more disappointing," Harry sighed, "Riddle actually taking divination seriously, or _you_ , practically giving up on taking out the threat yourself once some crackpot dubbed me the slayer of the dark lord."

"Not that offing the bastard would have worked anyway," Nym added. Harry nodded, acknowledging her point. He separated himself from the two to flop into one of the open chairs of the simple table set.

" _For neither can live while the other survives,"_ he quoted softly. Harry fixed Dumbledore with a stare. "That could have several meanings, but after recent events I have an idea of what you thought it was referring to." He sighed, trailing a finger over the remains of his scar, nearly invisible in its current state. "Whether that was true or not, I can happily say we'll never know, the soul shard up here is long gone."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the old wizard still seated at the table, keeping an ample distance from the innocent looking locket lying in front of him. "Do I even want to _know_ what you had planned to get rid of it, old man?" Harry probed with a slight snarl.

Dumbledore sighed for perhaps the tenth time in the last twenty minutes, "I had _hoped_ to find a way to safely remove the curse from your scar, but every source I'd uncovered over the years was quite consistent in its information: to destroy a horcrux, the container itself must be obliterated beyond repair."

"And _yet_!" Fleur cut in furiously, "as terrifying it was for us, and as painful as it was for Harry, a simple vision correction ritual was clearly enough to dislodge 'ze soul piece." She stood fuming, arms propping up her lithe figure as she leaned aggressively over the table, sneering at the older wizard. Harry laid a calming hand at the small of her back before speaking to Dumbledore once more.

"I have no doubt that you were searching for a solution, headmaster, but you placed way too much faith in the prophecy. I'm assuming that despite your efforts, you subconsciously believed that I was destined to face the dark lord in the end, eliminating the final horcrux it the process. You were probably hesitant to experiment with other solutions with that in the back of your mind, am I correct?"

"Perhaps you are my boy," the man admitted, examining the light glinting off the many facets of the carved locket. "In hindsight, it seems that your scar was never a true horcrux, whether due to the last vestiges of Voldemort's soul not being powerful enough to contain the ritual magic, or the ritual itself never being completed, your scar was naught but a pale imitation of these monstrosities," he finished, gesturing with his wand towards the glinting locket.

"Thank Merlin for small mercies," Harry huffed, before turning his attention to the locket itself. "I'm tired of all this shit, we can agree that you haven't made the best choices with regards to my health. How're we 'gonna deal with _this_ bad boy," he said indicating the locket, "From our research 'destroy the container' is pretty constant, but stabbing it with a basilisk fang can't be the only way."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, finally back in his element of an educator. "Disregarding its partial sentience, A horcrux's defense is twofold," he started, taking on a lecturing tone. "First, for as long as the object containing a horcrux remains intact, it will last eternally, while the soul piece itself is constantly guarding the object. It is quite simple in theory, yet no less effective. "It was not the fang itself that destroyed Riddle's diary, but the magically corrosive properties of the venom that ate through the protection while simultaneously destroying the object itself."

The man paused to gauge the reactions from his younger charges, seemingly impressed at how quickly the seemed to be processing the information.

"I can 'zink of very few 'zings 'zat would act in such a way," Fleur mused, "but from what 'Arry 'as said of 'is second year, we still 'ave access to 'ze basilisk remains, _non?"_

"You are correct, Miss Delacour, though I believe you all have encountered another such method fairly recently," he hedged, looking an answer as if this were a simple classroom lesson. Nym indulged him, as childish as it seemed at the moment.

"The fiendfyre?"

"Correct, Miss Tonks," he praised, "I assume the killing curse would suffice in a pinch as well, though I abhor the thought of any of you lowering yourselves to such a level."

"I'm not sure if any of us are even _capable_ of casting the killing curse, but I won't disregard that option just to keep the moral high ground," Harry insisted.

"I pray it never comes to that," he acknowledged. Harry wasn't quite satisfied with that answer, but dropped the issue for the time being. "Fortunately we have a significantly more practical option at the moment. The sword of Gryffindor which was presented to you at such an opportune moment," he paused dramatically, that irritating twinkle back in his eye once more, "has the unique property of amalgamating that which would strengthen it."

"Meaning it would have the properties of basilisk venom by this point?" Harry cut in, immediately grasping the point the older wizard was trying to make, despite his theatrics.

Dumbledore nodded, pleased at his deduction, before calling out, "Fawkes, if you would be so kind as to—"

The customary bloom of iridescent orange and red flame signaled the arrival of the Headmaster's avian companion.

"A warning next time would be appreciated sir," Harry breathed out as he blinked away the bright spots obscuring his vision.

"Ah, but that would require me to be privy to Fawkes' antics beforehand my boy, which I assure you is not the case. Though by this point I should be quite used to it, no?" He amended with a fond smile as he gently stroked the crown feathers of the magnificent phoenix.

Harry noted the ornate wooden case clutched in Fawkes' talons that he had missed earlier due to the bird's dramatic entrance. Within, glinted the equally impressive ancestral sword of Gryffindor, looking just as pristine as it had that day so many years previously, not that he had spent much time examining it at the time.

Dumbledore opened the case and carefully lifted the weapon out by its ruby-encrusted hilt, handling it with a dexterity that belied his age. After seeming to examine the blade for a moment, the man turned to Harry himself holding out the blade hilt first, and supporting the blade with a conjured cloth to avoid touching the toxic substance itself. "I know it does not forgive the loss of so many experiences every child deserves Harry, but perhaps you would prefer to make this strike yourself?" Dumbledore said softly, the look in his eye proving his sincerity.

Harry wordlessly grasped the hilt, its weight and shape significantly more comfortable in his hand now than at age sixteen. For the first time since Dumbledore had entered the room, the locket showed signs of life, quivering in place, as though it sensed its final moments coming to an end.

As Harry paced closer the vibrating locket grew even more agitated, the violent rattling echoing throughout the tiny room, before he finally paused a comfortable distance away, raising the sword in a two handed grip as if preparing to stake a flag in conquered territory.

He hoped Riddle appreciated the dramatic irony.

Harry only hade a brief moment to appreciate the humorous thought before the gold locket sprung open releasing a billowing cloud of oddly translucent vapor accompanied by the beginnings of the sibilant whisper of an all too familiar voice.

However, neither the smoke nor the voice had the opportunity to take shape or form intelligible speech as the glinting blade fell through the air like a guillotine, striking true with a metallic _clang_ that echoed throughout the small room. The telltale tapping sound of the locket falling to the ground was barely audible over the haunting wail given by the piece of Riddle's soul as it finally broke free of it's shackle to the mortal plane after so long.

Eventually the smoke swirling in agitation slowed, the volume of the pained screams waning as well until all was still once more.

Harry waited a moment before removing the localized shield charm he had reflexively thrown up at the first sign of danger. Fleur and Nym stepped out from behind him as he did so, resting a hand over his shoulder with a grateful smile before turning back to Dumbledore, all business once more.

The Headmaster himself had a particularly somber expression gracing his weathered face, clearly somewhat shaken from witnessing the destruction of what was once a part of possibly his most brilliant student.

"Soo… what now?" Tonks said as tactfully as usual.

Harry sighed fondly before answering. "That depends," he started, turning questioningly to Dumbledore, "do you know how many he made?"

The question of who 'he' was, was obvious enough as made evident by the man's prompt response.

"Tom Riddle has pushed the boundaries of magic further than any before him, of _that_ there is no arguing. I've not heard of someone creating multiple horcruxes before, and as such, he may run into unforeseen complications, some of which have already been made quite evident," he added, reaching out as if to brush over Harry's scar. Luckily for the man there was still a decent amount of space between them and he never came close to actually touching the younger wizard's forehead. Though whether due to a newfound respect of personal space or a sense of self-preservation, Harry was unsure. Witches and wizards had certainly shown less restraint in the past when it came to the spectacle his scar had become. Harry for one was quite glad to be rid of it.

"So you do not know for sure, _Monsieur_ Dumbledore?" Fleur cut in, filtering the man's penchant for verbal riddles.

"Quite, Miss Delacour," the man in question smiled, "Though I do have a lead on someone who may have an idea, though he has been quite difficult to get ahold of lately. Considering I am once more at a loss for Defense teachers this term, I simply don't have the time currently to chase around an old colleague." Seeing that Harry was about to protest he held up a hand to forestall any complaints. "I understand more than anyone the severity of that information and will not cease my search for it, but for now I have other responsibilities, as do you if I'm not mistaken."

"The trial's a farce and you know it," Harry said bitingly, though his ire was not directed at the old man but the situation in general. "Don't worry about that though, we've got all the evidence we need to clear my name and more, it shouldn't be a problem."

Dumbledore bobbed his head thoughtfully, "Very well, Harry, I've made the mistake of underestimating your independence before, I shall strive to not repeat such a mistake. I will perhaps be there in my official capacity, however other than that, you will be on your own."

Harry nodded gratefully, before wrapping an arm around Nym and Fleur's waists, "not _quite_ alone sir."

Dumbledore's answering smile was brighter this time. "Indeed!" he paused, summoning the twisted metal debris littering the floor, all of which immediately raced into his open hand, the enchantments preventing summoning having been broken by the venom laced blade of the sword still hanging from Harry's grip. The young wizard passed over the blade as Dumbledore strode towards the doorway. Fawkes flashed the sword away in a blaze as his companion disabled the sophisticated locking enchantment he had erected over the door. As he moved to strip that last of the enchantment away Fleur spoke up once more.

"Pardon me, _Monsieur,_ " she said, causing the man to pause and turn curiously. "'Zis is an unrelated matter, but while you are 'ere I figured why not ask." She paused, glancing towards Harry nervously before turning back to the headmaster. "Well I 'ad originally come to Britain for a bit of space away from home, as well as to pursue an enchanting mastery. Such a career is usual done through an apprenticeship, but in recent years, personal projects and self-study have also become viable methods. I guess what I'm asking is permission to ask several of your teachers to surpervise some of my projects while I work towards my mastery. I'd perform any work they needed me for to offset the time I'd take up of course." She said brightly, tacking that last tidbit on the end for a little extra incentive.

Dumbledore seemed to ponder the situation for a moment before answering. "I assume your reason for wanted to live at Hogwarts is purely academic yes?" He asked innocently, chuckling lightly when he managed to get a blush out of the normally unflappable veela. "As long as you speak to each professor you wish to aide you I don't see a problem with it. There are many suites throughout the castle that remain unused to due to decreasing class and staff sizes. I'm sure the house elves would be happy to clear out a space for you.

"Thank you, _Professor_ ," she said happily, dipping her head in thanks sending her silvery locks tumbling.

"It's quite alright Miss Delacour, hopefully, if all is well, we will not see each other until the trial. Until then, good luck." He paused at the door once more, "Oh my, I'd almost forgotten, Happy birthday, Harry." Dumbledore pulled a package from within his robes, around the size of the sorcerer stone and wrapped in a similar manner to the package all those years ago. But alas, the stone was gone, and even if it wasn't, Harry doubted the man was far enough gone to gift such a priceless artifact to a barely nineteen-year-old wizard.

He took his eyes off of the unassuming package to thank the man only to find him gone, door closed, and the room definitely _not_ looking like it had been the home of a bastardized exorcism just minutes previously.

"You sneaky bitch!" a voice broke Harry out of his musings and brought his attention to the comedic sight of Nym wrapped around Fleur like a backpack squeezing the taller woman's cheeks teasingly. "You just bought yourself practically an entire year with the stud-who-lived to yourself!" Fleur yelped as the older witch got a bit more handsy. "Taaaaake meee with youuuu!" Nym cried pleadingly.

"You will 'ave to figure out a way to get in yourself, Nym, I doubt Dumbledore will believe that you would lower yourself to being my assistant," Fleur giggled, trying and failing to act haughty over the situation. "You heard he needed a Defense instructor _non?_ Why not 'zat?"

"No way! Teaching is 90% grading papers, McGonagall just never bitches about it around her students," she snickered before pausing, a devious grin splitting her face. "Oh, that'll do nicely," the witch muttered to herself, rubbing her hands together comically.

Fleur sighed, turning to her lover only to find the man in question looking stupefied as he mouthed _'the stud who lived?'_ to himself.

Fleur merely looked to the heavens as if they held the key to understanding her capricious partners.

They didn't.

oooOoOoOooo

Harry, Nym and Fleur returned to find the occupants of the main dining room in an uproar. He briefly caught the flicker of Dumbledore's flamboyant blue cloak as he swept out of the room towards the front door somehow avoiding the cacophony of voices filling the area.

If only he could be so lucky.

Sirius made his way over to the trio, blatantly ignoring the Weasley matriarch attempting to talk his ear off. From what Harry could decipher, Molly was upset that that one of her precious children had come across such a 'dark' artifact in his house.

The obvious flaws with her line of thought were numerous, but the woman was obviously beyond being reasoned with, so Harry took a hands off approach, addressing his godfather as he finally stopped in from of them, a look of concern on his face.

"I know you're curious about what that was all about, Sirius, but this is neither the time nor the place to discuss it," Harry said, holding up a hand to forestall any questions for the time being.

Sirius scrutinized the younger wizard for a moment before nodding, satisfied that he was both unharmed and emotionally sound.

"'Ow is Ronald fairing," Fleur questioned for lack of a better topic.

"Physically? Fine, fit as a fiddle. Mentally however…" Sirius paused in thought, "you don't just bounce back from something as serious as possession," he explained. "Ginny took him away to talk the minute Poppy gave him the ok, I understand the young lady went through something similar in the past?" He said, phrasing it as a question and getting confirming nods from his godson.

Harry shouldn't have been surprised that Ginny had immediately thought to aide her brother considering how horrible her very first year at Hogwarts had been. In fact, thinking back on it, the young witch had bounced back incredibly well, all things considered. Harry himself had his own collection of problems to focus on so he was never really aware of how his admirer had recovered from the ordeal. He briefly remembered Ron mentioning how much Ginny adored her older brother Bill and how the older wizard was a huge help when the family visited him in Egypt the summer following the incident with the chamber. There was a different dynamic between the two youngest Weasleys for sure, but hopefully she could make up for it with the shared experience. Either way, for the moment Ron was in good hands, and he was certainly more comfortable than if he was being smothered by his mother.

Speaking of the woman, she had finally managed to get Sirius's attention and definitely not putting it to waste. After a moment the man's patience finally ran out.

"Molly, be quiet _please!_ I can assure you with the utmost sincerity that I'm upset that a friend of Harry's was harmed in my home." He only raised his voice slightly, but his tone was enough to leave the Weasley matron reeling. Sirius paused before pressing on to take advantage of the silence. "However, I'll remind you that I was never in favor of having the kids cleaning out this dump, I've been very up front about all the twisted shit my family got up to. It was _you_ that insisted that keeping them busy was for the best, please do not presume to blame me for this situation that could have been avoided entirely if we had just taken up Harry's offer of sharing his house elf to do the work."

"That offer still stands, of course," Harry cut in quietly. "In fact, taking recent events into account I'd feel much more comfortable having Dobby at least supervise, if not do the job himself."

"Well… I don't know…" the woman seemed close to accepting, only need a bit of a push.

"You can still cook alls da meals Missus Weasel!" Dobby added, popping into existence beside his master to his and the girls' amusement.

"Well alright, bu—"

"It'll be spotless in a week!" Dobby squeaked, cutting over any protest she was about to make and popping away once more.

"Can't argue with the little bugger," Nym scoffed, "wont even let me do my own laundry anymore."

Harry just chuckled taking Fleur and Nym by the hand and pulling them lightly to the basement stairs. A quick workout was just what he needed to destress after such an eventful breakfast.

Not enough to wear him out though. Harry didn't like to presume, but it _was_ his birthday, and he certainly had _some_ idea of what he'd like to be doing come night time.

By the girls' matching grins, he wouldn't be disappointed.

The rest of Harry's birthday was blessedly uneventful. After getting a bit of spellwork in he spent the rest of the day lazing around the library with Nym and Fleur, joined by Hermione after a half hour or so. The Black library, which once gave off the vibe of clinical academics was now a bit more comfortable with it's slightly expanded space and added furniture, courtesy of Fleur's runework. Such an expansion would not hold for any significant length of time due to all the enchantments already saturating the old manor, but for the rest of the summer they would have a place to relax while they studied.

Molly had calmed down enough by dinnertime to deliver her usual quality of meal. That is to say it was fit to feed an army, or the Weasley clan. Though Ron, despite attending the meal, did not eat with his usual gusto, understandable all things considered. He did however converse quietly with his sister every once in a while.

Much cheer was had despite the less than stellar morning and Harry was pleased with all the gifts he had accumulated by the end of the night. Molly's fantastic homemade treacle tart was even better than the stuff they had at Hogwarts sometimes, and Fred and George made sure he was stocked full of both prototype products as well as those ready for the general public. Harry imagined some of those gifts were more for him to pass on to Fleur for ideas but it was the thought that counted.

Ron had passed over a package of zonkos sweets over with a tentative smile which Harry returned wholeheartedly. It would be absurd to hold him responsible for anything said while he was effected by the horcrux. Harry had personal experience with the kind of insidious thoughts such an artifact could plant in one's head, and his friend had been perfectly polite before then.

Hermione's gift of a fully interactive magical text meant to aide with learning French was much appreciated despite her and Fleur giggling madly as he butchered the pronunciation of the few phrases he had tried at their insistence.

"We will 'elp you practice love, it would not do to 'ave you greet my parents with such an 'orrible accent," Fleur managed through her snickers.

And wasn't that a sobering thought. Harry meeting the parent of his lovers was always an abstract concept, but considering how serious his relationship had gotten, it was only a matter of time now. He reeled at the thought of explaining their unique partnership to anyone, let alone their parents. Fleur's mother being a veela may make the conversation much easier on that front, but everything he'd heard about Andromeda Tonks pointed towards that one being not quite as simple.

 _Oh well,_ there was no sense in worrying about it until the time came.

Remus, who had unfortunately been held up with his work for the order, sent his regards via a letter delivered along with a couple photos back from his Hogwarts days. Sirius had handed over his own collection of photos along with Remus'.This was a treat he hadn't expected as most of them included some or all of the marauders, the images that were distinctly showing their sixth and seventh years even included a couple of his mother. Though there was a distinct lack of Pettigrew among them for obvious reasons. Harry hoped he could thank the man in person soon, as despite not agreeing with all of his choices in life, he was still a close friend and deserved that gratitude.

Soon the impromptu party wound down as the table's various occupants left to sleep off the feast and birthday cake. Harry took his leave as well, followed by Nym and Fleur as they retired for bed.

"We had one more gift to give you, stud," Nym spoke up as the approached their shared room.

"Oh yeah? What ever could it be?" he smiled innocently.

"Don't get cocky, loverboy," she smirked, "by the end of tonight we'll have you eating out of the palm of our hands."

"As if I don't already," he laughed lightly.

"Good answer, 'Arry, I believe it deserves a reward," Fleur whispered before slipping sensually into the room, dragging him along.

"Happy birthday to me," he muttered with a grin.

Both of their answering laughs were music to his ears.


	26. Chapter 26

**Revised: 7/19/2019**

 **AN: Holy shit a chapter released on time? That's right boys and girls it's a bloody miracle. Don't get used to it. Just as a note concerning the trial, any knowledge I have of actual procedures for hearings or anything of that nature is from what I've read or seen in movies/tv shows. I tried to make it as believable as possible without dragging it out since personally I find reading the hearing chapters in most fics tedious. If you have any suggestions to make it better this is one of the few chapter's I'd consider actually editing immediately after releasing so let me know.**

The days leading up to the trial seemed positively uneventful when compared to the excitement of discovering another of Riddle's soul jars and the resulting revelations. This was in no way and unwelcome change and Harry and company took full advantage of the time freed up by no longer being expected to make Grimmauld place inhabitable once more.

Harry had mentioned several times to his godfather that the man might consider finding a more appropriate home for an eligible bachelor such as himself. The old manner could still act as headquarters, and that way, Sirius wouldn't have people traipsing through his home at all hours of the night. This was under the assumption of course that everything went off without a hitch concerning Harry's trial and the additional evidence he planned to bring along, but it couldn't hurt to plan optimistically for once.

Most would not be thinking in such a way after being pronounced the one destined to defeat the Dark Lord, but Harry saw such a revelation in a different light. Finally, he had _some_ idea of what the madman was after. He was so obviously fixated on retrieving the full prophecy that it made him predictable, giving the trio some appreciated breathing room to both search for his remaining horcruxes, as well as hone their own abilities in order to better protect themselves.

Bar waltzing into the ministry himself, Riddle had literally no way to retrieve the prophecy no matter how many lackies he sent to scout the department ahead of him.

Harry, Fleur and Tonks quickly fell into a comfortable routine, having lived together for a good portion of the summer. On most days, after a standard Weasley family breakfast the three would excuse themselves to the library where Harry would continue his studies, often joined by Hermione who had finally registered the fact that her friend was researching magic that wouldn't be covered until well into their seventh year, at least in his transfiguration and charmwork.

The studious witch was somewhat mollified when Harry explained how much he had skipped around the material when searching for topics to master. Training the pace at which he could complete more complex transfigurations in the heat of the moment was a much higher priority to the young wizard than some of the more intricate theoretical knowledge of the subject.

Hermione's drive to catch up did not waver in the slightest, but she felt much more at ease knowing he had not outpaced her so completely. Thinking back Harry considered her reaction a reasonable one. Having someone seemingly learn in months what would normally take years would obviously upset anyone, let alone someone like Hermione who put so much effort into academic excellence.

Grimmauld's basement was obviously not as high-tech as some of the equipment in the ministry, but besides the absurdly versatile simulation room, Harry didn't really miss anything too terribly. They could make do with what they had available.

Harry and the girls' skills steadily improved as they drilled the more practicle applications of certain spells. They wouldn't be tossing around anything beyond skirmish-class magic since, despite the room being magically reinforced, it was small enough that the backlash from anything more powerful would put the caster as well as the observers in danger. That was something Harry wished to avoid if at all possible.

There were, however, a couple deviations from this schedule over the following days. One being only three days after the conversation with Dumbledore when an ecstatic Fleur received positive responses from all of the instructors she had contacted. Professors Flitwick, Vector, and Babbling consented eagerly to offering their knowledge to aide her in her research in exchange for someone to occasionally assist with their workload. But it was the addition of responses from Professor Hagrid and Sprout that piqued Harry's curiosity, considering she had never shown a particular interest in the subjects. That was not to say she did not excel in them, her grades were the Hogwarts equivalent of straight O's, but to pursue a mastery in the subjects? Harry had questioned his partner during a quiet moment they had in an evening after a day of rigorous studies.

"I h-have been experimenting wiz the technique 'zat Nym's uncle was kind enough to enlighten me to," was her curious response.

"In what way," Harry said, sliding closer in the loveseat they were lounging in. "From what I can remember, it was like he was _growing_ the wood around my wands," he mused, flicking his wrist and palming the familiar presence of his willow wand, once more appreciating the natural beauty of the wood that seemed to show no hint of being manufactured by man.

Fleur gently layed her palm over his own hand, silently asking permission to handle his wand, not that she really needed to. Harry had a feeling that Fleur was possibly one of two people that his willow wand would not react negatively to. It was a part of her as much as it was a part of him after all.

Sky blue eyes inspected the swirling grain of the wand. It truly was a work of art, something she clearly wished to recreate as Harry recognized the familiar gleam that appeared in her eye. " _Monsieur_ Alistair mentioned contacting a herbologist to get a better insight to his technique," she explained. "I figured I'm being offered such an opportunity already, why not take advantage of all z-the knowledgeable people I'll be around." She shrugged, smiling lightly.

Harry gently took the proffered wand back from his partner, slipping his hand into hers to replace it. Gently stroking his thumb over the back of her hand he questioned her on something else that had been bugging him. "Your accent…" he smiled lightly, "have you finally been corrupted by my vulgar British sensibilities?"

"Why?" she giggled, "disappointed 'zat you will no longer be _'Arry,_ love?" she teased, intentionally thickening her accent while speaking his name.

Her giggles turned into full-blow laughter at his reaction. He had never exactly hidden how much he enjoyed the way she would occasionally _purr_ his name, and she was well aware of the fact, often using it to great effect.

"Have no fear, my love, you will always be _'Arry_ to me." She said, smiling widely and nuzzling his neck as an apology for her teasing. "It's just 'za-that," she paused, letting out a huff of frustration, "It's just that I consider this country my home now, and I want my literacy to reflect that."

Harry felt not so unpleasant fluttering in his gut as a result of the sheer admiration he felt for this woman. Leaning in to show her _just how much_ he admired her, he met her lips softly in a gentle kiss.

The passionate moment slowed after several minutes spent in each other arms, and Harry's mind had wandered to a topic he had been reminded of earlier.

"Fleur, you said you intend to stay in Britain in the foreseeable future, correct?"

He felt her nod in the affirmative against the elegant tattoo on his bare chest, the pair having slumped to a prone position and he having lost his shirt during their embrace.

"What do you think of finding a home somewhere? I mean I know you have your apartment but—"

"It was never supposed to be long term, Harry, and as for a home, I've already found it." She said, clutching him marginally tighter.

Harry let out a joyful laugh, pressing his lips to the crown of her silvery-blonde hair to show his appreciation.

"As for what I believe you _really_ meant, I would love to find somewhere more permanent to live with you, but despite my reasonable savings I don't currently have the funds to afford something like that. After a few years though…" she trailed off, her meaning obvious.

"You forget about the basilisk corpse though," Harry pointed out, earning a soft 'ah' from Fleur, apparently she had forgetting that little tidbit, but then again so had he. "I'm sure the fee for rendering the materials will pretty much deplete the money remaining in my vault, but the profit from the project would probably cover the cost of several houses. It's just—" he cut himself off, seemingly hesitant to say what was on his mind.

"What is it _'Arry?_ You know you can tell me _anything,"_ she pleaded softly.

He murmured something that sound a lot like, 'bloody succubus,' but answered her anyway, not that her ability to get him to speak was ever in question.

"It's just that…we have _magic_ Fleur. Sure, places like The Burrow have less than ordinary shapes and the ministry is hidden in the heart of London without a trace. But… I just feel like there's so much wasted potential here. We can fit a luxury suite inside a tent for god's sake! Surely, we can come up with something more imaginative than a stuffy manor with hundreds of rooms or whatever else the purebloods of this country think up."

Harry was a bit embarrassed at his outburst but Fleur seemed intrigued to say the least. "So what… we build something ourselves?" It was phrased as a question but Harry could already see the gears turning in his girlfriend's wonderful head.

"That's what I was thinking," he answered caustiously, "what do you think?"

"Honestly I think it's a wonderful idea," Fleur answered happily, "some of my favorite memories as a child were when _Maman_ would take Gabriel and I to see some of 'ze more famous buildings in magical Paris."

"I've always thought it would be pretty cool to have a _real_ treehouse," Harry murmured to himself, not even intending to really say it out loud. But sure enough Fleur perked up, her mind working a mile a minute.

"That's an idea…" she murmured with a devious smile. Meanwhile Harry tried to retract his statement, embarrassed that he had said it out loud in the first place.

"Fleur, I was just thinking out loud! There's no reason to take it seriously!" he insisted, flushing slightly.

"Why ever so? I've never heard of magicals building homes in a tree before, it's so wonderfully unique! It's a wonder no one's ever done it before!" She seemed to only gain more momentum as Harry fruitlessly tried to dissuade her.

"It's childish," Harry mumbled, for once showing his age. The thought had actually been a genuine one. Ever since he was a kid he had always envied the kids that would brag about how their dads built a treehouse with them. It was never something that Dudley could really hold over him considering the difficulty Vernon would have getting his fat ass up a tree in the first place.

He couldn't help but crack a grin at such an amusing thought. But the yearning had never truly left him. Now faced with one of the two loves of his life actually considering it, he couldn't help but be filled once more with that childish sense of wonder. He was brought out of his inner musing by Fleur murmuring her thoughts incomprehensibly, having only gained momentum in his distraction.

"There's a possibility of weaving several expansion charms using the limbs of the trees and anchor points… but that poses the problem of the points changing over time as it grows. We could petrify the growth of the tree to prevent shifting but that ruins the natural beauty really, what would be the point in the first place?—"

"Fleur—"

"—transfiguration on the branches themselves but that may stunt the natural grown the of the tree itself, hmm, could possibly be dangerous. We could reinforce the trunk with magic, but that would either constantly drain the caster or be absurdly expensive for the materials of the ward stones. No, too wasteful… maybe—"

"Fleur!"

She blinked, flushing beautifully when she realized how much she had been rambling but Harry didn't care, kissing her soundly simply for the fact that she was considering indulging what he thought of as the whims of a child. "I love that you're even considering this, hun, but we can worry about the details later, I have no doubt you'll figure something out," Harry said contentedly, pecking her on the lips once more before pulling away. "Before you do anything though, we should run the idea by Nym, don't you think, that is, if she intends to live with us," he added as an afterthought.

"Of course she does, and as for building a treehouse… have you met the woman? She'll be more excited about it that _you_ are, no matter how much you try to hide it from me," she said, smiling radiantly.

"You know me too well, love," Harry grinned, "no pressure though, it was just an idea. Where _is_ Tonks by the way? I haven't seen her all day."

"At 'z-the… Auror office again if I'm not mistaken," Fleur answered to neither of their surprise. The spunky witch had made several trips to the ministry ever since their talk with the headmaster, but whenever either of them prodded her for the reason, she would only smirk slyly and say 'it's a secret,' before sauntering off before they could pull any more information from her.

"Maybe she's getting her job back," Harry mused somewhat sadly, not that he wasn't happy for her, but having a full time job again would mean less time spend with the three of the them together.

"Perhaps," Fleur hedged, thought she seemed skeptical that that was all it was, and for good reason. If she was simply being reinstated, then why all the secrecy?

"I guess we'll just have to wait until whenever she deigns to enlighten us," Harry grinned, "Nym will be Nym."

"Indeed," she nodded primply, "Now I believe either you are underdressed, or _I_ am overdressed, care to do something about 'zat, _'Arry?"_

"But… we're in the library!" he protested, not quite managing to pull of the stern look.

"You're a wizard are you not?"

"True."

The coral snake that had taken to lounging on a table nearby to his chosen master, flopped its patterned tail over its eyes, Harry having insisted on his privacy in such moments, regardless of species.

§ "What ssstrange creaturesss humansss are…" §

Harry waved off Fleur's questioning glance at his snickers, eventually distracting her with much more _pleasant_ sensations.

oooOoOoOooo

Harry may have been a bit lax when casting the privacy charms before their encounter, but at the time he'd had other things on his mind. But other than the incessant teasing of by Sirius after finding the pair in a particularly compromising position that afternoon, the following days went on without a hitch.

Eventually, they day of Harry's trial was upon them. There was a tangible anticipation that permeated the walls of Grimmauld place. Nervousness in the case of Sirius, for according to his godson, he had a very good chance of being a free man by the end of the day.

For Harry, however, confidence was the most dominant emotion. After today he would have no more obligations besides enjoying his summer with the girls and practicing magic, at least until Hogwarts resumed. If everything went according to plan, his godfather would be free and Pettigrew would be locked behind bars, though whether he would stay that way was yet to be seen. It all depended on how valuable Voldemort considered the rat, and if it was enough to stage _another_ breakout from Azkaban. Considering Riddle had already freed the majority of his most talented servants, Harry didn't see it as very likely.

Even with a miniscule chance of escape, Harry wouldn't normally leave something like that to chance. It was only the necessity of going through the official prosecution for Pettigrew to free his godfather that stayed his hand.

Molly was hovering something awful that morning, and Hermione and Ginny to a lesser degree. It was only the knowledge that they were doing it out of genuine concern that stopped him from langlocking the lot of them. Once Harry, Fleur and Tonks had finished a light breakfast, despite Molly practically shoving more food down his throat, the three rose to leave through the front door.

"Do you three know where you're going," asked Arthur as they made their way out, "The visitor's entrance is a bit tricky to figure out sometimes."

"No worries, Mr. Weasley, I'm sure we can figure it out, and Tonks here knows where it is at least," Harry smiled. He appreciated the Weasley Patriarch's laidback way of expressing his concern far more than his wife's overbearing approach.

The trio apparated off the top step as soon as they were outside, Harry making more of a distorted warping noise than a crack due to his ever-improving mastery over the skill. As he ventured futher into his studies, it was becoming clear that magic dealing with the manipulation of space came to him much more naturally than other disciplines. Nym and Fleur were barely louder, and after a moment, all three stepped out into an urban alleyway that Harry knew to be located several miles away from Grimmauld place.

They were surrounded on all sides by looming buildings that blocked off most of the sunlight giving the place a depressing air, but coming here rather than appearing in the middle of a crowd was quite necessary. They took a short walk into a district that seemed a bit more welcoming, with the odd little shop or pub appearing every few blocks, eventually arriving in front of a beat-up telephone booth, complete with several broken panes of glass and rusting hinges. From what Harry could tell the phone wasn't even connected, the wire hanging limply, unattached to the receiver.

"Tah-dahhhh!" Nym sung grandly, pouting cutely at the less than stellar reactions from her two companions.

"I thought you were joking when you said the visitor entrance was a beat up phonebooth," Harry huffed in exasperation.

"It is certainly like nothing I've ever seen before," Fleur deadpanned.

"Hey don't blame me, I didn't make it this way," Nym shrugged, before prodding the other two to squeeze snugly into he booth. _That_ was certainly something Harry could get behind, though the experience wouldn't have been quite so enjoyable had he been escorted to the ministry by Mr. Weasley like they had wanted him to in the first place. The man nice and all, but Harry was quite sure he preferred being packed like a sardine with the youthful figures of Nym and Fleur. He made sure to sneak in a quick squeeze of Nym's bum that was so conveniently in reach of his hand.

He chuckled as she let out a yelp followed by a curse as she nearly toppled all three of them over from her reaction.

"Watch where you're stepping Nym," Fleur chided lightly.

Tonks let out a huff, "Blame Wonderboy over there, it's not my fault he's randy 24/7."

"I have no idea what you're on about, Nym," Harry said innocently.

"Yeah, whatever," Nym said, tapping a series of buttons on the number pad. After an automated greeting welcoming them to the Ministry of Magic, they began their slow descent into the underground structure.

Normally, the three would apparate directly into the ministry atrium, avoiding all the unnecessary checkpoints that guests were normally obligated to navigate in order to save time. Whether it was a particularly legal method was up for debate, but on the day of his trial Harry felt it might be best to err on the side of caution. There was no reason to tempt fate since despite the absurdity of the trial in the first place, giving any reason to suspect he and the girls of any wrongdoing probably wasn't the best idea.

He registered his Holly and phoenix feather wand along with Fleur at the appropriate station, internally scoffing at the ministry deluding themselves into assuming people wouldn't carry a second wand. Perhaps it was more to catalogue the number of people currently within the ministry, which, if so would make the process perfectly logical. He didn't voice either of his thoughts however, feeling significantly more at ease with the familiar presence of his ebony and willow wands strapped to his wrists.

The three made their way past the ministry fountain, looking as blatantly elitist as usual, down familiar corridors until they reached the multidirectional elevator. Instead of following their normal route towards the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, they continued on to the bottom floor, which Tonks had said housed the courts and incidentally, the entrance to the Department of Mysteries. The automated voice that announced the Ministry Levels at each stop confirmed her information and the three stepped off on that floor.

An eerie silence permeated the hallway, the walls constructed of a dark stone unlike the pristine white walls adorning the majority of the ministry building. Harry assumed it was a tactic of intimidation used to unhinge potential criminals as they faced trial. He was undoubtedly innocent and still felt a bit unsettled himself.

Harry and Nym were forced to part with Fleur, as visitors were not allowed inside the courtrooms unless they were the defendant, a witness, or some form of council to the defendant. Under normal circumstances Fleur could fall into both the second and third category, but the outdated and radically racist system of government of magical Britain did not allow 'part-humans' to testify.

 _Surprise surprise…_

Courtroom six was curiously empty, but after peering into a few more doors they found themselves at the proper court. It was a grand room to say the least, arranged in a similar manner to the memory Harry had witnessed within Dumbledore's pensive the previous year. The only significant difference was the lack of the thick black chains that normally bound prisoners expected to be dangerous to the prosecutors. Harry didn't know whether to be relieved that they didn't expect him to be any trouble, or be insulted at the thought that he wouldn't pose a threat if he _did_ decide to make a scene.

To his surprise, one thing that was nearly exactly the same between the memory and his present situation, was the fact that he found himself in the presence of nearly the entirety of the Wizengamot, a curiosity for two glaring reasons. The first being the absurdity of requiring the presence of the whole court in the first place for a simple case of underage magic, despite this technically being Harry's third offense.

The second was the fact that Fudge seemed entirely ready to proceed with the hearing despite it being scheduled for an hour later. Upon entering the packed courtroom, the chatter filling the chamber settled to a more easily ignored murmer.

"I was told to arrive at courtroom six at 9:00 am," Harry said, voice carrying quite well despite his quiet tone. "This is neither the correct time nor place I was told, has there been a mistake?" Harry asked innocently, taking a seat in the hard wood chair located in the center of the chamber. He had no delusions about the true reason the time and place had changed, the hearing itself was a joke, and neither Fudge, nor the Ministry had any substantial evidence indicating any wrongdoing on his part.

Oh, he had certainly cast more than just a patronus charm on that night, but thanks to the numerous flaws in the trace there was actually no way to prove that fact. In hindsight, the only way he would have actually been in any danger of being arrested was if he had missed the trial in the first place. He internally cursed for not suspecting Fudge of trying to pull something like this. Luckily, the three had intended to arrive at the trial early just for courtesy's sake, and as a result arrived at the rescheduled and relocated trial with just barely enough time to spare.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by a sputtered response by the Minister himself, who was—imagine that— leading the hearing in person.

"The hearing was relocated and rescheduled due to conflicting schedules. You should have received notice at your place of residence sometime this morning," the man said in a self-important tone.

"Funny, I just checked into courtroom six and it was empty, what did they need the room for?" Harry said, a number of agitated conversations around the room breaking out in response. Apparently some of the members of the Wizengamot weren't too happy about being relocated to a new room either.

Harry smirked, seeing an opportunity to plant the seed of doubt in the sorry excuse for a jury seated in front of him.

"Oh and if you sent the notice to my previous place of residence I assure you there's no way I received such a message. You see number four Privet drive was burned to the ground in the attack I was defending myself from just weeks ago." The mutterings increased to practically a cacophony at that information. It seemed that most of the jury was not particularly knowledgeable about the incident. Understandable, considering that Riddle's mass breakout occurred the very same night. An attack on what was —to those uninformed of his residence— just a random muggle neighborhood, did not warrant a second glance to the average magical citizen, let alone a member of the Wizengamot.

It took several bangs of his gavel for Fudge to finally regain some semblance of order in the court, and he was clearly flushed with irritation at losing the momentum of the conversation so abruptly. He began to list the purpose of the trial in an attempt to gain control once more.

"Disciplinary hearing of the tenth of August, into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, _former_ resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Interrogators: Cornelius Aswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of –"

Harry tuned the rest of the procedural speech out, having no interest in the rambling rhetoric of the courtroom. The important thing was that Amelia Bones had a role as an interrogator being the only one of the several officials that Harry knew had the full story and would judge fairly.

Another surprise was who he recognized as the wayward Weasley son himself, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment, seemingly enjoying the sound of his boss's voice almost as much as Fudge did himself.

 _I hope this job was worth ostracizing your entire family Percy,_ Harry sighed inwardly.

"—how to you plea?" Fudge said imperiously, having finished his longwinded speech.

"Concerning what?" Harry said curiously.

The seemingly casual response was clearly not what the man had expected if his resumed sputtering was anything to judge by.

"Of casting the Patronus charm boy, were you not paying attention?" He spat after regaining his wits.

"Oh." Harry said as if thinking back to that night, "Well I cast a lot more than the Patronus, sir, like I said, there was an attack on my home by… well I don't exactly know who, sir, the Aurors present never really informed me. But now that I think about it, it's curious that I was accused of just the patronus charm when there were so many spells being cast around me in the first place. I can assure you my wand was never examined at any point that night, nor was there any reason to, it was all in self-defense, you can ask the Aurors that responded to the call."

Fudge seemed to be stupefied by the 'boy's' eloquent dismantling of his main arguments, leaving several beats of silence before he puffed up once more in anger.

"What is this nonsense you're spouting, boy!? There _was_ no dementor attack, the monsters are firmly under control of the ministry, I can assure you they are all accounted for!"

"Are they sir?" Harry asked innocently, nearly cracking a smile at the vein visibly pulsating on the man's forehead, "According to the Prophet, there was a breakout from Azkaban the very same night, Perhaps a few slipped away in the confusion?" They probably hadn't, but it wasn't all that unreasonable an assumption and such an accusation would throw the minister even further off guard.

"What's this nonsense about another attack, our Aurors were busy dealing with Black's breakout were they not?! Bones, tell the boy!" It was the stern, redheaded witch that Fudge was addressing, but Harry didn't miss the accusatory glance the minister had shot briefly at his Undersecretary, the unpleasant woman Harry had met briefly so many weeks ago. Said meeting had left a particularly sour taste in his mouth that he still hadn't forgotten after all this time. Perhaps it was her that had orchestrated this whole debacle. Fudge didn't seem particularly knowledgeable about what had actually happened and had probably simply jumped at the chance to slander Harry's name without looking further into the matter.

There was a reason a competent minister would normally delegate such responsibilities to his or her underlings. He was one man, and especially on that particular night, had much more important things on his plate. A case of underage magic would normally be dealt with quietly and certainly not in front of the entire Wizengamot. Unfortunately for him, the ambitious decision to go after Harry would most likely bury the man. He almost felt sorry for him…

Almost.

The severe visage of Amelia Bones darkened slightly at the tone used by her 'Boss' but answered him all the same. "You're mistaken, Minister, the majority of our forces were indeed suppressing the mass breakout of Azkaban as best we could, however, there were a few singular Aurors that were dealing with the events described by Mr. Potter." The woman continued, ignoring Fudge's outraged expression, "Aurors Shacklebolt and Vance, as well as Suspended Auror Tonks, though not in an official capacity, were all present on the scene and are here prepared to give a testimony. Though frankly, I find myself agreeing with Mr. Potter concerning why exactly this hearing was called in the first place."

The mutters began anew, and Fudge began to realize that his overt attempt to slander Harry may have been a mistake, but Bones was not finished.

"It has also come to my attention—" her voice cutting through the hushed conversation, "—that new evidence concerning one of our highest profile cases was uncovered in light of said attack."

Fudge was not the only member of the Wizengamot that was looking particularly confused at that statement, but it was his that Harry took the greatest pleasure from. Amelia, having finished her report turned to Harry himself. "Mr. Potter, you claimed to have evidence concerning the conviction of one Sirius Orion Black—" she ignored the uproar "—I'm throwing out the accusation of violating the Statute, it's obvious now that our asteemed minister has been… _misinformed_ concerning these events." Harry gave the woman a winning smile as she continued. "However, considering we have the required number of active Wizengamot members present for cases of this magnitude, perhaps you'd like to present the evidence you claim to have."

Harry relished at how Fudge's formerly infuriated visage had paled considerably, the man knowing how any such a revelation concerning his favorite scapegoat could affect his approval rating. Harry had no doubt that that was all the man was truly worried about, he really wasn't cut out to be minister, at least in such harrowing times.

"There is no precedent for this! I wont stand for it!" Fudge blustered over the court's many conversations growing progressively louder.

It was Bones that regained order this time, only this time using her wand to create a deafening crack. "With all due respect, _sir,_ there wasn't exactly a precedent for assembling the Wizengamot in the first place, the least we can do is not waste their time," turning to Harry, "the floor is yours, Mr. Potter."

Harry grinned up unabashedly at Fudge before beginning to speak in a clear voice to all the assembled members. ,"Thank you Director Bones, I'll try not to take too much of your time." He took a breath before beginning, "First of all, to say this concerns the conviction of Sirius Black is misleading, you see, the man in question was never given a trial, as least not one he was ever present at."

Harry waited an appropriate amount of time for the collective outrage to die down once more before continuing his oration. "Such a detail is merely a technicality that I wanted to mention for context. I am well-aware that the Previous minister was well-within his rights during wartime protocol to send particularly convincing cases straight to prison without a trial, though I've never heard of it happening to a pureblooded Lord, but that's another matter entirely." The grumbling this time was much more subdued as those that wished to speak out against him were also looking out for their own advantages afforded due to their own heritage.

"Get to the point, boy, we don't have all day!" Fudge urged, getting some of his steam back.

"The _point,_ Minister Fudge, is that Sirius Black was not only never convicted of his crimes, but entirely innocent of them in the first place!"

The outcries this time took a full minute to settle, time in which Harry never broke eye contact with the ever-paling Fudge.

 _All this could have been avoided if you'd just listened to me last summer, Fudge._

"A wonderful story you've told us, boy! But where's the proof?!" The minister cried in a last ditch effort to discredit him.

"Ah yes, as Director Bones was kind enough to inform you, the attack two weeks ago produced some particularly convincing evidence. Dobby?"

The excitable house elf popped into existence by his master's side—and if that wasn't a security risk Harry didn't know what was—carrying the same reinforced cage containing a particularly terrified but otherwise healthy grey rat. The tiny animal shivered violently when he took in his new surroundings, skittering agitatedly around the wooden cage.

The crowd seemed to lean closer, curious at how the rat had anything to do with Sirius Black. Harry indulged them, disengaging the unbreakable charm on the cage, before employing a particular niche charm that Sirius had taught him at his request. It was originally designed to undo botched human transfiguration, but had the curious side-effect of forcing an animagus from their animal to human form.

The man's filthy form appeared before Harry, looking even more filthy and worn than he had just over a year previously. Apparently serving the dark lord didn't offer very good health benefits.

"I give you, Peter Pettigrew, Animagus, general scumbag, and the true betrayer of the Potter family to the Dark Lord Voldemort."

A beat of silence ensued, then pandemonium erupted.

oooOoOoOooo

A brief recess was taken in light of the bomb that Harry had figuratively dropped on the nobility of magical Britain. Pettigrew was hastily detained by the on-site Aurors as despite the validity of Harry's claims still being up for debate, faking his own death and failing to come forward following the events of October 31st all those years ago did _not_ endear him to many people.

Harry lounged in a self-satisfied manner in a section of the chamber reserved for distinguished guests that wished to sit in on specific Wizengamot meetings. Those who had scorned not only Harry, but also Sirius's name but an hour previously, were already changing their tune in light of recent revelations.

When the trial resumed, watching Director Bones slowly chip away at the last of Pettigrew's feeble excuses was almost as satisfying as if Harry was doing the interrogating himself. Though he might have been a bit more _hands on_ in his methods, but whatever worked. The cowardly man cracked within twenty minutes, though not without once more attempting to appeal to Harry's kind nature to get some form of leniency in his sentence.

Unfortunately for the sniveling rat animagus, Harry was _not_ the same merciful boy as the last time they had come face to face.

Pettigrew had confessed to all the crimes Sirius had originally be accused of, but either from fear or loyalty did not mention anything that would confirm Harry's claims of the return of his master. Any chance of said information being revealed was further hindered by Fudge flexing the formidable power his position still afforded him, requesting the rest of Pettigrew's questioning be done in a private holding cell. The reason being information this 'sensitive' should not be released to the public without considering the consequences.

Unfortunately this was a valid argument, and had it been the actual reason behind Fudge's actions he might have agreed. But Harry had no doubt that it was nothing more than a last ditch effort to protect his reputation from being tarnished any further. The fact that the motion was supported by many of the traditionalists that held seats on the Wizengamot was not missed by Harry.

"Very well," Bones' voice cut across the chamber once more, though one could tell she wasn't entirely happy with the result, "All those in favor of, upon the conclusion of his _private_ interrogation, sentencing Peter Pettigrew to life in Azkaban prison?"

The majority of hands were raised, including those who had voted for the private interrogation, in what Harry assumed was an effort to not telegraph their loyalties.

As if that would fool anyone…

"All those in favor of clearing Sirius Orion Black of all charges, as well as issuing a compensation of the sum of 10,000 galleons per year of false imprisonment, upon his registration with the ministry at a time of his choosing?"

This was the vote that had a grin splitting Harry's face wide open. At last his godfather would be cleared of all charges. However, he stayed seated as it seemed Director Bones had one more issue to bring up.

"While we're still here, there is one more matter to discuss," she said, quieting the crowd once more. "Due to a recent lack of skilled enforcers in addition to her assistance in capturing the true betrayer of the Potter family, I propose to reinstate Nymphadora Tonks once more to the Auror force on a probationary basis, where she will lead a small team tasked with the protection of Hogwarts castle upon the beginning of the fall term."

Harry nearly missed the affirmative votes as his eyes raced around the packed chamber. He finally met the slate blue eyes of his lover almost directly across from him among her fellow Aurors. Her own shit-eating grin matched his own as she cheekily stuck her tongue out at him when no one was looking. He never should have doubted her, as she had somehow, miraculously wedged her way back into Hogwarts along with Fleur.

Suddenly Harry was quite looking forward to returning to school this year.


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Hey there, been almost exactly a year since my last update to this story, but I've finally gotten around to writing some new content. Some of you may have noticed that I've been revising the early chapters to reflect my current writing ability, so if you've forgotten the plot of this story after so long, there's never been a better time for a reread, but that's obviously up to you! Longer AN at the end!**

Nym danced around the bustling occupants of the main Auror office radiating a sense of smug accomplishment. The energetic metamorph was entirely unrepentant as she stared down several of the greener Aurors—and sadly some of the veterans, that had doubted her ability in the past.

Why _shouldn't_ she be smug?

After all, Harry's trial had been as successful as any of them had hoped it would be. Sure, she wished they'd managed to extract a bit more damning evidence from Pettigrew before Fudge silenced him. But alas, to the overwhelming majority of wizarding Britain, rumors of Voldemort's return were still considered nothing but a scare tactics employed by a wizard past his prime and a confused teenager. It was disappointing, of course, but after years spent in the Ministry's service, Tonks had come to expect that sort of behavior from their current minister. When it really came down to the wire, Fudge simply didn't have the backbone to make the kind of decisions needed in wartime. He'd already been spoiled by his cushy lifestyle.

But aside from all that, Boss lady Bones had _more_ than come through on her promise!

Nym inwardly squirmed with excitement at the prospect of her return to Hogwarts. She had of course, exaggerated her jealousy for a bit of humor when Fleur had made her request to the headmaster for residency, however, the reality of only seeing her lovers every odd Hogsmead weekend had been a depressing one.

Convincing the head of the department of Magical Law Enforcement to deploy a force tasked with the protection of Hogwarts students and staff was surprisingly easy. Though Nym shouldn't have been surprised considering the absurd events that have plagued the school ever since Harry'd started attending, and that was only considering the ones known to the public. It had been simple enough for Tonks to enlighten her boss on a bit more that had gone under the radar over the years. Most of Harry's adventures had been kept under wraps, of course, Wizarding Britain truly couldn't afford a full-scale investigation into Hogwarts at such a crucial turning point after all. But an offhand mention of the procedural nightmare that was Harry's third year, or letting slip how little security there really was during Hogsmead weekends had been enough to get the ball rolling.

Even more surprising was the Woman's willingness to not only allow Tonks to be reinstated, but to lead the small squad herself. Apparently, she'd had more allies in the department than she had previously thought. That, or Bones just wanted to keep her away from the kinds of cases that had led to her suspension in the first place. A spitfire she may be, but even Tonks could admit that avoiding the temptation of beating some sense into those idiotic purebloods was probably for the best.

Either way, the result was the same, and Nym simply couldn't _wait_ to christen the various broom cupboards of the castle with Harry and Fleur. From what they had said the pair hadn't gotten romantically involved until after the summer had started, and prior to that, Harry's only experience with a witch was his less than stellar night with his Yule ball date whose name Tonks couldn't quite remember.

Something with P…

She couldn't quite muster much empathy for the witch, from Harry's guilty description of the night, P(enny?) had only went with Harry in order to be the center of attention, a place that her boyfriend, though constantly growing more accustomed to it, would never willingly _choose_ to be in. If P(amela?) knew what was good for her, she'd keep her claws off their man _this_ term.

Nym had no delusions that Harry's physical changes alone would be attracting a fare bit of attention from the fairer sex this year, but between Fleur and herself she was confident they would be able to protect their mutual lover's… _purity._

She let out a dorky snort at that thought, earning multiple glances from her colleagues as she slipped out of the Auror office, having already spoken to her Boss and confirmed that she was still officially on leave until the beginning of the school term. This left her free to run one more errand before returning to celebrate with Wonderboy and Aphrodite.

Unfortunately, this particular stop was one she had been putting off for longer than she probably should have, but with nothing else to occupy her time and having been reinstated to the Auror force, there really wasn't a more fitting time to make the journey.

To be fair, 'journey' was a bit of a stretch, especially with magic. Even the longest of trips to places located at the far reaches of the globe were a few portkeys away at most. Even considering the clearance required for those kinds of trips, traveling with magic was positively effortless when compared to their nonmagical brethren.

 _This_ trip, however, was practically next door. Nym made her way to the main lobby of the Ministry, approaching the areas designated for outgoing apperation.

Frankly, she had learned more from Harry's apperation lessons than she had ever taught him, though the noble idiot would deny such a fact. But there was no denying that the way he approached the discipline was unique— At least for magicals from _this_ part of the world—Nym was sure there were countless other ways to approach instantaneous movement from other countries and even some lost to time.

Taking a moment to properly center herself, she willed the plane between her current location and her destination to fold together, disapperating with a soft _pop_ , not quite as subtle as Harry's near-silent travel, but still rendered inaudible in the hustle and bustle of the ministry's main lobby.

After a mildly disorienting warping of physical space, the lithe metamorph reappeared on a grassy hillside softening her landing with a few light steps. The hill looked over a medium sized Victorian home settled on the edge of a small copse of trees that flanked the north edge of the house.

To others it probably appeared to be and average English home, if a bit more upscale than most, and distinctly nonmagical. The same could not be said, however, about the various flora surrounding the property. Mum had always had a bit of a green thumb, despite her talent for potions being encouraged as a more _respectable_ skill by her family.

Indeed, the quaint, sky-blue painted house sat as undisturbed as usual. The scent of wildflower's and a rich tang of some odd ingredient her mother had probably planted recently filled their air. The place filled her with a unique sense of nostalgia that could only be matched by the rolling Scottish hills surrounding Hogwarts. Here was the place where she'd taken her first steps, first learned to ride a broom, and been shown all the love of a family that Harry had missed…

That thought put a bit of a damper on her return. Her childhood hadn't been all roses and daisies, of course. She doubted _anyone_ could honestly claim to have a _perfect_ upbringing and she was no different. Nym could recall the countless afternoons that she had been forcefully planted—often magically—in a seat as her mother tried to groom her into a 'proper lady,'

Nym snorted audibly. They'd both found out quite quickly how well _that_ had worked for her…

"Nymphadora Tonks, would you care to come in and explain to us why it's been nearly a month since you've _graced_ us with your presence?"

 _Speak of the devil…_ Hopefully Aphrodite was having better luck than her…

oooOoOoOooo

 _"Maman, it is not the end of the world,"_ Fleur sighed tiredly, staring into cool blue eyes that so closely mirrored her own.

Her mother, more often mistaken for an elder sibling than not, frowned as she gently cupped her daughter's chin. Fleur's scar had faded to be nigh unnoticeable unless it caught the light just so, but of course it was the first thing her mother had noticed upon embracing her daughter.

 _"I knew letting you galivant off to that deplorable country was an awful idea, Fleur!"_ her mother fired off in rapid French. It hadn't been the first time she had brought up that particular argument, Fleur had heard it countless times since she had informed her parents of her intentions to work in Magical Britain. The multiple incidents the prior year hadn't endeared the French natives to their friends across the pond, nor did their particularly vocal stance on the various magical races.

Fleur couldn't really blame her mother for her attitude, it _was_ a mother's job to worry after all. She let out a huff, having heard that phrase enough times over the years for several lifetimes. Fleur could admit that some of her worry was valid, but there _was_ a point where she would put her foot down.

 _"Maman, you **know** I would be much happier if you and Papa approved of my choices in life, but you did not **let** me go anywhere. I am supporting myself of my own accord and am legally an adult that can make her own choices, regardless of if you find them favorable or not." _

She sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt at the resigned look on her mother's face, but this was important to her. Possibly more important than anything else, after all, Britain was where Harry and Nym were, therefore, that's where _she_ needed to be.

Appoline Delacour paused, studying her daughter once more, for the first time since their reunion ignoring the imperfection marring her jaw and truly _seeing_ her. It was subtle, but the young veela radiated a palpable joy so tangible that the woman wondered at how she had missed it before. She was _completed_ in a way only a veela or those partnered with one would understand.

 _"Who is he, ma fille?"_ Appoline questioned her daughter, her tone turning knowing, _"Or perhaps she?"_

Fleur shifted uncomfortably. As naturally in tune with the baser emotions veela were, discussing the topic with _either_ of her parents wasn't exactly devoid of embarrassment. But after a moment, she decided her mother was the lesser of two evils.

 _"Well in a way, both… I suppose?"_

The twinkle in her mother's eye wasn't very encouraging.

oooOoOoOooo

Harry sat crosslegged in the center of Grimmauld Place's basement training room, devoid of human company for the first time in weeks. In one corner of the room, curled around a small rock he'd charmed to be self-warming, was the small coral snake he'd summoned the night of the attack on Privet drive. The reptile had yet to disappear, and at this point Harry had accepted that the fact that it probably never would. He'd been pondering over names for his new companion, occasionally taking input from the snake itself, but they'd yet to find something that suited the striking creature. But unlike most challenges in the young wizard's life, there was no rush, and that was just fine with him.

After Nym had mentioned taking a trip home to inform her parents of her reestablished position, Fleur had taken opportunity to portkey home for a few days for the same reason. That, and unlike Nym whose parents were easy enough to reach via apperation, traveling to France even through magical means required a bit more planning. International portkeys in addition to being a quite uncomfortable experience, required a certain amount of clearance before they could be used to cross borders. Luckily, there were several members of the Order that could help expedite the process a bit.

It was not explicitly stated by either witch, but Harry had a feeling that they would both be revealing their relationship to their respective families now that they were sure it was serious. This was both an exciting and terrifying prospect for the young wizard. On one hand…

A _family_. Something he had yearned for since he understood what it even _meant_. While the Weasleys had always welcomed him as one of their own, he was quite obviously still a guest in their home.

However, on the other hand, their relationship wasn't exactly ordinary, and while Fleur's family might be more prepared to accept polyamory, the Tonks' might be more apposed, especially if the little information Nym had let slip about her mother's background was anything to judge by.

Either way, he certainly expected to be meeting both of his lovers' families in the not-too-distant future. As for his current situation, Harry was taking advantage of the rare moment of solitude to explore something which had been bugging him for a while.

In the heat of the moment, it had been something easily overlooked, but Harry was quite sure he had summoned a pillow windlessly on the night before his birthday. He hadnt stopped to explore the instance further for obvious reasons, but given some time to himself, he was hoping he could replicate the feat.

Seated in the center of his temporary training room, Harry slipped into a meditative state, letting the natural ebb and flow of his magic wash over him. His mastery over moving objects through space had only required a wand for the initial cast, allowing Harry to freely manipulate the objects directed by his magic to a degree that exceeded most wizards. Considering the weight he could carry comfortably peaked at several hundred pounds, he was no stranger to lifting heavy objects. However with his wands sheathed in their usual position at his wrists he would start with the same wooden block he had used all those weeks prior.

Harry was well aware of the limitations to wandless magic, he had no illusions about firing complex spells from his fingertips, nor did he expect to wield lightning like some kind of Sith Lord. The arithmancy that went into creating a curse that resulted in a specific effect was incredibly meticulous. Entirely too complex to attempt without the precision granted by a wand or any other type of focus.

But a summoning charm? Levitation? Harry couldn't think of another bit of magic that suited his needs any better. Having spent hundreds of hours honing his skill in the relatively simple charms required for his spacial manipulation, he'd figured it might be appropriate to start with something familiar.

The surge of his magic trickled down his forearm, pooling at the base of his wrist.

Harry had quickly dismissed learning with an incantation after having gone without for so long. Simplifying his first attempt was one thing, but gating himself with an incantation would feel like too much of a step backwards at this point. He willed the wood block to his hand as he would with a wand, frowning as the cube remained mocking motionless.

His outstretched hand gave no indication of the power rolling in agitation just under the skin.

The spell felt familiar up until it was about to be released, an element of the process missing from the equation.

Well, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what, that's what he was here to try to work out after all.

Harry cleared his mind once more starting the process from the beginning.

oooOoOoOooo

"It's not moving, pup."

"I _know_ that, Padfoot! If it was moving, then I wouldn't have been sitting here for hours trying to _make_ it move!"

Even if his irritation hadn't been bleeding so obviously into his tone, the fact that his ass had long since fallen asleep, and his joints creaked like a man several times his age with the slightest motion, was probably a good indication that he should have taken a break from his attempts at wandless magic.

He'd known learning the skill wouldn't come _easily,_ but his utter lack of progress was disheartening to say the least. With all the time he'd taken to master his special manipulation, having it thwarted so completely just by being parted with his wand was not only incredibly frustrating, but also terrifying to a certain degree.

Witches and Wizards, especially those in Nym's line of work took every precaution to prevent being disarmed. Anti-summoning charms on their wand holsters to prevent theft, and the inherent resistance a wand had to being summoned while wielded by its master prevented a Mage from being rendered helpless so easily. But there was a reason the disarming jinx was some of the first offensive magic children were taught in school. As Harry was so adequately reminded by his repeated failure, a wandless wizard was a helpless wizard.

Being helpless was something he'd hoped to avoid ever again. That was the whole _point_ of bettering himself over the summer holidays, _wasn't it?_

Having two wands he could rely on was a small reassurance, but ultimately, was a work around.

Wait a second…

"Sirius, do me a favor?"

The man, looking much more like his younger self despite it only being a day since he'd been declared an innocent man, perked up at Harry's voice. "What is it, Pup?"

Harry handed the man his willow wand, hilt first. "Take this a couple steps away…" He gestured across the room. "Not too far," he amended as Sirius paced away with a confused frown on his face.

"What're you up to, Harry?" Sirius questioned, turning back to his godson a few meters from his position.

Harry scratched idly at the hair that had begun to grow around his jaw, making a note to learn a few grooming charms later that night. "I've been pretty much relying on muscle memory for the magic that I can use effortlessly. Summoning, banishing, levitation, it all comes naturally to me now, so I don't really need to think about it, right?"

"Yeah, so what's your point?" Sirius frowned down at the intricately crafted wand he held in his fingers. "Wasn't your wand Holly? I'd recognize this material anywhere… The things Lily could do with that willow wand of hers..."

Harry nodded, recalling that he hadn't told the man about the events leading up to his old wand's incompatibility. "It's Willow and… veela hair," he clarified, a dusting of red heating up his cheeks.

" _Hoho?_ Is it _really_ now?"

"Focus, Padfoot."

Sirius held his hands up placatingly, "Woah there, _Wonderboy,_ no need to get aggressive with me!"

Harry's stinging hex left his ebony wand in a flash, and Sirius, realizing the impending danger, reflexively raised the wand in his hand to parry the relatively slow-moving spell.

Unfortunately for the man, not only was the wand not his own, but apparently didn't take to kindly to being used by someone other than its master. Judging by yelp he let out, dropping the wand as fast as he possibly could, the wand made its ire known in a very obvious manner.

Bereft of any sort of defense and distracted by the pain of the wand's rejection, the stinging hex smacked directly into the man's nose, leaving him clutching his face in obvious pain.

Harry felt the frustration of the previous few hours of fruitless training trickle away as his laughed heartily at his godfather's predicament. Served him right.

"I'm so _glad_ my pain is humorous to you, Harry!"

Harry calmed his guffaws, instead smiling at his godfather's face, his nose swollen and an angry red. "Always expect an attack, Padfoot, you should know that. Especially when you're takin' the mickey out of someone's precious possessions."

Sirius bent over to gingerly pick up the temperamental willow wand, hesitance apparent in his posture. "I was only joking, pup, even a blind man could tell that you've got something special there… Something tells me that wand you've got there is no different." He nodded toward the ebony wand current gripped between Harry's fingers.

"Perhaps," Harry smiled, twirling the wand dexterously between his index and middle fingers. He pocketed it a moment later, settling his gaze back on the wand gripped in his godfather's hand. "Before you so insistently interrupted—

" _Me?!—_

Harry ignored the man's interjection. "I thought that maybe I'd grown a bit complacent with the process of casting magic I'm already familiar with. These spells are simply second nature to me at this point, but originally it was all about intent, right?"

"Yeah, but you should know that by now, Pup."

"Well, rather that working with a random object, wouldn't summoning my wand offer a bit more… _incentive?_ At least subconsciously?"

Harry didn't wait for the man to answer, instead moving to test his theory personally.

He reached out his hand as he'd been doing all afternoon, this time towards the wand clutched in his Godfather's hand. The surge of magic down his arm was the same, pooling somewhere around his wrist and swirling in agitation, ready to be released.

His brow furrowed in concentration. The power was there, he only needed to properly direct it, but therein lied the problem.

The familiar thrum of Fleur's magic was significantly fainter than it was when the veela-haired wand was safely in his palm, but it was there.

He could _feel_ it.

 _Finally_ , his magic slowly, _arduously,_ trickled out of his palm, creeping across the room to its target. Like any summoning charm, the forces at work were obviously not visible to the naked eye, but his progress was real all the same. Harry's magic met the echo of Fleur's residing in the wand, tangling in a way he would never quite understand as the charm took effect. All that was left now was…

 _Come._

The command immediately took effect as the pale wood was wrenched from the hand of a startled Sirius, flying through the air to settle in a grinning Harry's own gentle grip.

It was only a moment before Sirius broke out of his stupor. "Well I'll be damned, Harry, you did it…"

oooOoOoOooo

"Lord Black, it certainly _has_ been a while hasn't it?"

"Aw, go to hell, Tom. You know I'd never ask you to call me something like that…"

It was both Sirius's first excursion as a free man in over a decade and a half, and the first time Harry'd spent any amount of time with the man in public since he'd met him. He couldn't quite shake the need to be constantly looking over his shoulder, and _his_ paranoia was merely second hand. He couldn't imagine the stress that Sirius himself must have been under, especially with half the bar still shooting him distrusting glances without a single bit of subtlety.

But none of it showed as the man traded barbs with the barkeep of the Leaky Cauldron like no time at all had passed.

Having neither Tonks nor Fleur to keep him company in Grimmauld place for the last few days, Harry had been chomping at the bit to get a bit of fresh air. So, when Sirius mentioned a similar urge, having cleared any current legal issues with the Ministry the previous day, he jumped at the chance, no matter what the man planned to do.

Luckily, Sirius's request had been rather tame. It'd been so long since he'd been free to grab a drink at a wizarding pub, at least one that wasn't filled with the dregs of society. It'd been simple enough for Harry to morph his appearance enough to remain relatively unnoticed in the dim lighting. If anyone cared to take a closer look, they might recognize him from the trial, but his physical changes alone since the previous term would be enough to fool anyone that knew him from school.

"Isn't that right, Harry?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, turning his focus back to the conversation between the two older men. "Pardon?"

Tom chuckled good-naturedly. "Hogwarts, young man, are you looking forward to the new term?"

Harry paused in consideration. Besides the obvious company he'd be keeping this term, there were other factors to consider for this year specifically. "I'm looking forward to playing quidditch again this year, it's been a while."

"Right, they canceled it for the tournament last year huh… But now I'll be able to see you fly in person!"

"I coulda' sworn you'd caught a few games in my third year, Padfoot."

He laughed heartily. "Right you are, pup. But hiding behind the bleachers getting a peek every now and then is no way to watch quidditch! Now I can be in the stands and cheer embarrassingly loud like a good godfather should."

Harry rolled his eyes, knowing the man wasn't bluffing in the slightest, but the thought of such a scene warmed his heart rather than strike fear as the man had probably intended.

"You'll be a fifth year, won't you, Harry?" Tom commented as he placed a tankard of foaming butterbeer in front of the boy. A shot of firewhiskey was given to Sirius beside him. "Ready for your OWLS?"

"Oh, god. Don't remind me. Hermione hasn't shut up about those since we got our letters yesterday… Why the hell did McGonagall have to mention that on the booklist? She _had_ to know what would happen right?!"

The girl had been frantic, thinking she was behind on her studies, despite the fact that the standardized testing of Wizarding Britain covered up to fifth year, which they hadn't even started yet…

"Your Mum was the same…" Sirius said fondly. "Not quite _this_ early in the year, but she was always one of the first in our year to start revising. James used to make a habit of pranking her around exam time just to get her out of the castle, even if it was because she was chasing after him wand blazing."

Harry grew silent, smiling lightly at the thought.

As Sirius and Tom fell into a conversation about one of their shared experiences from their past, Harry palmed his willow wand, idly spinning it between his fingers. After a moment and with a bit of concentration, the narrow length of wood left his digits, instead rotating slowly over the palm of his hand like a helicopter blade.

After his breakthrough a few days previously, his control over the small feats of wandless magic had gradually improved with time. He could summon and levitate his wands with a bit of effort and had even had a bit of success with the wooden blocks, though he was still struggling with consistency. It helped that any time he was sitting idly he could pull out a wand to practice with.

"You're getting pretty good at that, Harry." Sirius seemed to consider his words for a moment. "Ever consider learning another bit of wandless magic…"

It only took a moment for Harry to realize where his godfather was going with this. "I'm interested, of course, but I'd just thought that learning other stuff should take a higher priority, considering the situation I'm in."

Sirius nodded… seriously. "You're right, getting your combat prowess up to snuff is of a much higher priority. But the process for being an animagus is something that takes place over months, a lot of that time is spent waiting around for certain steps to be complete. It's a process that can't be rushed, despite our best attempts. It's better to take your time with it, which lucky for you, means you can work on it in your free time, though I can imagine you might have other things on your mind this year…" Sirius wiggled his eyebrows salaciously.

Harry rolled his eyes, kicking at his godfather's stool as the man raised the next shot of firewhiskey to his lips. Sirius yelped as the potent brew wobbled precariously over the lip of the glass, shooting a glare towards the younger wizard once it'd settled.

Harry grinned with a practiced innocence, though the look was probably one Sirius had mastered before he'd even been born. He should have known better than to even try…

"So, you're just gonna leave me hanging, Padfoot?" Harry queried after a moment. "What do I gotta do first?"

Sirius flicked the remnants of the whiskey that clung to his fingers at his godson, fixing him with a hard stare. "I'll give you the crash course when we go back, for now I've got higher priorities."

"Riiight…" Harry sighed, shaking his head in resignation as Sirius made eyes at a pretty brunette witch that had settled herself a few seats down the bar. To be fair, the Leaky Cauldron was hardly the place for the man to impart this particular lesson. Besides, he'd earned a night to cut loose for once.

oooOoOoOooo

"Where exactly in France do your parents live, Fleur? I don't recall you ever mentioning…"

Harry's ears perked up as he walked through the entrance to Grimmauld's dining room, his grin widening even further as the two witches seated at the table came into view.

"I was born in Bordeaux, but my parents moved to a small town north of magical Paris shortly after I started at Beaux— 'Arry!"

He strode across the room, sweeping the lithe figure of his girlfriend up in his arms as she met him halfway. "Fleur," he sighed between repeated kisses. "When did you get back?"

"Earlier today," she smiled into his neck. "How are you?"

The question was automatic, and rather than answer he simply tightened his hold on the woman, burying his nose into her silky hair and inhaling her familiar scent. It'd only been a week or so, but _god_ he'd missed her.

Harry vaguely noted Hermione passing by to his left. "I'll leave you two alone," she smiled, flushing slightly at their blatant show of affection. "Goodnight, Harry, Fleur…"

"Night, Hermione," Harry said, without taking his eyes off the blonde in his arms.

"Goodnight, 'Ermione."

They parted after a moment, Harry keeping one hand joined with Fleur's as he wordlessly led her up to their shared room.

"Your parents are alright?" Harry asked quietly.

Fleur sighed audibly, a small furrow appearing between arching brows. "I would be lying if I said they were happy about my choice of returning to 'Ogwarts once more. My previous experience with the castle left much to be desired, and at the time I made no attempt to hide that fact from 'zem."

Harry nodded in understanding. He of all people could understand how much of a trouble magnet Hogwarts could be. Even Fleur, who'd only experienced a single year living in the so called, 'safest place in Magical Britain,' could attest to that fact.

They arrived at the second floor and Harry gently slipped the hand holding onto Fleur's to the curve of her waist as he stepped a bit closer to her side. "From what you've said before, they weren't exactly keen on you working here over the summer either," he shook his head slowly. "Not sure I can blame them either, with everything that's going on. Did you… happen to mention me?"

An apprehensive expression pulled at Fleur's lips as she avoided his gaze.

Harry's grin froze before slowly falling off his face as the various implications of such a look raced through his head. Did Fleur's parents forbid her from seeing him again? He'd worried about how his country of origin might taint their opinion of him before, but were his worries finally coming to fuition? Even worse, was it him _personally_ that they had a problem with?

Being a local celebrity came with its fair share of troubles, perhaps they didn't want that kind of attention on their daughter? God knows Harry'd had enough of it in the few years since he'd come to the magical world…

So lost was Harry in his frantic thoughts that he'd nearly missed the snort that escaped from Fleur's lips.

His verdant eyes shot suspiciously to girl in question, noting the grin the threatened to expose her pearly white teeth.

 _This cheeky minx!_

"That was _not_ funny!" Harry deadpanned as Fleur finally succumbed to her giggles.

"Oh, _'Arry,_ don't be such a poor sport! You should 'ave known that my parents would never have a bad word to say about you on principle. You've saved both me and Gabrielle on more than one occasion, _non?_ I am sure they will love you even more once they meet you in person."

"Poor sport, huh?!" Harry said, cocking an eyebrow.

Before she could even respond, he'd scooped her up and swung her over his shoulder, barely struggling with the weight of her slender figure. Fleur's giggles grew into full blown laughter as she batted playfully at his back, while Harry effortlessly carried her the rest of the way to their room. Harry reveled in the sensation of his fingers biting softly into the skin of her exposed thighs as he edged their door open with his foot and crossed the threshold.

Only to freeze at the sight of Nym lying face down fully clothed on their shared bed, looking, by all accounts, dead to the world.

"'Arry? What is it?" Fleur gasped between breaths, her vantage point making her unaware of why Harry had halted so suddenly.

He carefully swung her around, instead cradling her to his chest, mindful of nearby objects knocking into her head.

"Oh, hello there, Nym. I hadn't realized you'd returned already, nor did 'Ermione say anything…"

Remaining decidedly prone, Nym groaned inaudibly into the mattress waving vaguely over her head.

Harry was caught between frowning and smiling at the response. He'd never seen the metamorph so absolutely exhausted, at least without the accompanying afterglow of some of their more adventurous nights together.

"We didn't quite catch that, babe," Harry laughed as he laid Fleur down gently next to the sprawled form of their mutual lover.

Fleur crawled over to press a kiss to Nym's exposed neck in a way they knew she particularly liked, but surprisingly it didn't earn more than another groan, though the noise _did_ seem a bit more enthusiastic than before.

Harry was struck mute for a moment at the sight of the two beautiful witches tangling so amorously even if one was a bit unresponsive at the moment. It'd only been a bit more than a week, but being reminded that they were both _his_ and he _theirs_ in turn, was like a tonic to his magic. He settled on Nym's other side after shedding the navy button down he'd worn on his outing with Sirius, transfiguring the trousers into a more comfortable pair of sweatpants. With any luck on his godfather's part, the man wouldn't be returning until the next morning considering how receptive the witch he'd met had been to his advances. Sirius really knew how to rock the whole 'ex-con' angle.

But that was neither here nor there, Harry, after all, had has own witches to worry about. He trailed his right hand teasingly down the curve of Nym's spine before pausing at the swell of her plump rear. Covered in denim it may have been, but that certainly didn't detract from its allure. Harry grinned as she wiggled impatiently.

He removed his hand, purposefully ignoring her muffled squeak. "Oh? You seem so tired, Nym. I suppose we should just let her sleep, Fleur."

The veela in question offered no resistance as he pulled her over Nym's form, the soft flesh of her chest conforming to his own, leaving her legs to tangle with the unresponsive metamorph's. The heated kiss they shared at that moment was undeniably erotic in its own right, but it also served the purpose Harry had initially intended.

Nym nuzzled her way into the crook of his neck even as Fleur demonstrated her own formidable skill with her tongue, tangling it languidly with his own.

"Not so tired anymore, huh?" Harry gasped in the brief moment of separation between he and Fleur. He caught his breath as Fleur turned her attention to Nym, enthusiastically making out with the increasingly reinvigorated witch. "What was that all about, anyway?" he sighed.

" _Later!"_ she gasped between kisses.

Harry nodded wordlessly, instead palming his wand and divesting Tonks of her jeans, exposing the metamorph's toned legs and sporty boyshorts. Rather than using magic to remove her underwear Harry indulged himself and took his sweet time to peel them off by hand.

Nym visibly shivered into Fleur's mouth at his touch but didn't cease their liplock, and Harry took this as a wholehearted approval to continue his exploration. A small tuft of light blue hair to match today's pixie cut crowned the metamorph's glistening snatch, but Harry didn't pause more than a few moments to admire the sight.

He dove in without preamble, buried his nose into her pubis and grinned as the witch's muscular legs moved to clamp around his head. It had taken him a while to get over his hesitance when performing oral on either of the girls, but luckily, neither were particularly hesitant to let him know _exactly_ what they liked. _Tonks especially_ , he amended as he felt another hand clamp into his hair pushing him further down.

Harry probed the witch's slit with his tongue, parting her already lubricated folds with ease before wriggling around teasingly. He vaguely heard the woman's appreciative moan, though it was thoroughly muted by her thighs and whatever part of Fleur her mouth was currently busy with. He undulated his tongue _torturously_ slow at first, but ramped up the pace as Nym's reactions grew increasingly noticeable.

Eventually, the fleshy nub of her clit was exposed, swollen with her excitement. Harry didn't hesitate to pinch the bundle of nerves between his tongue and upper lip, wiggling the muscle in place. The keen she let out at _that_ was audible even deafened by thigh-flesh as he was, and Harry knew the finish was in sight. He _plunged_ his tongue back into her cavern, curling the appendage upward before applying what was perhaps the most handy use of parseltongue he'd discovered to date.

A single extended syllable in the ancient snake tongue had the metamorph coming undone in _seconds._ The satisfaction of pleasing Nym so thoroughly was well-worth nearly having his head nearly caved in by her clenching thighs, though he did have to take a moment to catch his breath once Nym's earthshattering climax had ceased.

The witch in question lay bonelessly in Fleur's arms as the blonde lightly stroked the spiky blue locks that were plastered to her scalp with sweat. She heaved great lungfuls of air, grinning blissfully through closed eyes as she came down from the high that _he'd_ given her. _That_ at least would always be a point of pride for Harry, but he'd do his best to keep it from going to his head.

"So… why so knackered, Nym?" He asked, crawling up to spoon her other side.

"W-what… oh, I'll fill you in tomorrow…. Right now, I think I'll…" she trailed off, her cheek squishing into the equally supple flesh of Fleur's chest.

The veela let out a tinkling laugh at the action, meeting Harry's eyes with mirth dancing in her own. Whatever had left Tonks so indisposed, it couldn't have been serious if she'd let herself be distracted so easily, but Harry couldn't help but be innocently curious nonetheless.

But seeing as the witch probably wouldn't be up anytime soon, he was content to wait for the morning. He'd settle for falling asleep in the arms of these two wonderful witches after being apart for what seemed like so long…

 **AN: There we go! It took a while to get used to writing these characters again after so long, but I think it turned out ok. Updates to this story will by no means be as frequent as they once were, but I'll probably be swapping between the few multi-chapter fics that are currently in progress on this site, including this one.**

 **On an unrelated note, I post both original art and fanart that sometimes includes characters from my fics to my IG and twitter. So if that's something that interests you, shoot me a follow at biitii_Art**


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: I think I like how this chapter turned out, but I'm not quite sure. The POV changes might come off a bit confusing, I think I might start labeling them like I do in my other story, but idk.**

 **Anyone who was kind enough to follow me on IG might see that the account no longer exists. This is because I decided to make a separate account for fanart/fanfiction stuff. The handle is biitii_Art so if you're still interested, there you go.**

 **That being said, enjoy the chapter.**

 **Chapter 28**

"—we continue to push individuals who support our cause into positions of power, My Lord, however, Pettigrew's capture has made it infinitely more difficult to move freely within the Ministry…"

Lucius studiously ignored the ache in his knees as he knelt on the intricately woven rug in the grand study of the Malfoy Manor—his own family home— knowing that showing such mortal weaknesses before the dark lord would be the height of folly.

The blonde Head of house had spent close to two _decades_ in his master's service after all, even if his master was missing in action for near half that period. Lucius may have ingratiated himself quite nicely with the reigning ministry leaders in his master's absence, but he had never once considered himself anything but a Death Eater. The mark seared into both his skin and magic was a stark reminder of that fact.

No, even after the years the Death Eaters had spent in decline, Lucius had not forgotten the insidious burn of his master's power.

He held his position, hearing the swishing of the Dark Lord's robes as he paced languidly around the room, but couldn't help the subtle flinch as the feared wizard's voice pierced the silence.

"What of our efforts to confirm exactly what information Pettigrew has divulged?" Voldemort said with a cultured cadence.

It was the hooded figure that knelt to Lucius's left that spoke up in response. "Despite our continued attempts to plant a fellow patriot in the upper divisions of the Auror office, Bones' screening process remains a persistent roadblock to our efforts."

"I see…" the Dark Lord intoned. "Continued failure will of course be met with the appropriate… _consequences."_

"Yes, my lord."

Malfoy suppressed a sneer as the man beside him, Travers or Avery Jr.—he could never tell the difference between the two while masked—whimpered out his assent.

"Very well…" Voldemort sighed, running his bone-white fingers along Lucius's polished oak desk. "It appears that the time has come to take more overt steps towards our current goal. It would be foolish to assume Pettigrew has not divulged any information he was privy to… We can expect those opposed to our cause to be on alert, however, the Ministry has weakened beyond measure in these peaceful times…"

Voldemort turned his gaze on the assembled hooded figures, his inner circle arranged appropriately in a ring around his central position. "It is possible that, even after this operation, the current administration will continue to bury their heads in the sand. Those of you included in this operation have already been briefed, however…" A cruel smile stretched across thin lips. "We have one more incident to address before we adjourn…"

Lucius's eyes unconsciously trailed towards the body huddled in a shivering heap in the middle of the room. All the inner circle members currently assembled had of course immediately recognized one of their own, unmasked and purposefully alienated from the rest as he was. Macnair's propensity towards recklessness had always been a boon when properly directed, but it appeared that his nature had finally spurred him to cross the wrong individual.

"All members not participating on the assault on Azkaban were specifically directed to focus all efforts on infiltrating the Department of Mysteries, a directive that hardly concerns someone of your position in the Ministry. Pray tell… did you assume that I would not discover your treachery? And if you succeeded in capturing the boy, what then, did you presume that I could not retrieve him myself had I any need of him at this time?" Voldemort trailed off, turning back to face the prostrated form of Macnair, scarlet eyes flashing with malice.

"My Lord, I—"

" _Crucio."_

As desensitized to violence as Lucius was, the screams of those put under the Dark Lord's cruciatus seemed to cut straight to his soul, having felt the effects firsthand on countless occasions. A few moments later, but what probably seemed like hours to the victim, the Dark Lord ended the spell, resuming his pacing as if he'd never ceased.

"I have no need for meaningless apologies," Voldemort stated with a disturbing amount of apathy. "It is only logical that one pays for a transgression with a punishment of equal severity, is it not?"

The very air seemed to still as if waiting for an answer to the Dark Lord's question. Macnair managed a tremoring nod, fearing that a second attempt at an audible reply would earn a repeat performance.

The Dark Lord paused his pacing, tilting his head as he observed the wizard and his companion prostrated before him. A second later, a smile stretched across his face, exposing teeth so white that it was no wonder that they belonged to a body only a few month's old.

"So glad that you agree. _Crucio."_

It was stark reminder of the fate of those who chose to oppose the Dark Lord's word.

Hours later, Lucius strode his way down the luxuriously decorated halls of his family manor, the path to his destination being one he'd found fewer and fewer reasons to take as the years progressed. If his son ever needed to speak with him in private, he knew that Lucius's study was the appropriate location to do so.

At least until the most recent changes to their living arrangements.

Lucius rapped his knuckles against the dark wood of his son's door, entering once prompted by the voice within.

"Draco, you must listen carefully. Your very life my hinge on it…"

oooOoOoOooo

"I swear, the woman must think I'm still an 'ickle firstie just starting Hogwarts! Is it too much to ask to be treated like a bloody adult for once in my life?!"

Harry hid a grin as he dodged around groups of families going about their business between the colorful shops of Diagon Alley. Tonks' time with her mother had apparently been _just_ as exhausting as the witch had expected, and she'd made absolutely zero effort to downplay that fact once she'd recovered from the ordeal. Harry reached out a hand to grip Nym's shoulder, redirecting her away from a couple that she'd nearly crashed into in her inattention.

"Maybe _don't…_ walk backwards in the middle of the alley, Nym? Unless you've finally figured out how to _actually_ grow eyes on the back of your head?"

Harry smiled fondly as the witch rolled her eyes, twirling in such a way that he found his arm situated over her shoulders.

"Why bother when I've got an extra pair right here?" she said, bumping her forehead into his chest.

"Oh, get a room!" George called loudly from where he trailed the pair. His brother mimed retching by his side.

Nym cocked an eyebrow. "Our hugging too _stimulating_ for your innocent eyes, Fred?"

 _"—_ George _,"_ he corrected immediately

" _Bugger!_ Wrong again! _"_ she cursed, snapping her fingers in agitation.

Harry was convinced by this point that she was purposefully calling the pair by the wrong names. After all, guessing _in_ correctly with perfect accuracy was pretty telling, and judging by their suspicious stares, the twins were catching onto her antics as well.

"Will you _please_ focus," Hermione cut in, pulling Ron away from the newest display at Quality Quidditch Supplies. "It's been nearly an hour and we've barely made a _dent_ in our school shopping."

Harry laughed lightly, "Well, to be fair, I've already gotten my books for the year, Hermione. Plus, we just _came_ from the apothecary," he added, tapping the shrunken trunk that hung around his neck."

She frowned, narrowing her eyes at him over her shoulder. "When did you have time to buy your books, anyway?"

"Fleur's apartment is just a few blocks that way," he said, jerking his thumb down the street they happened to be passing at that moment. "I've been in and out of the alley all summer."

Hermione looked like she had something to say about that, but was never given the opportunity, as Fred hooked his arm over Harry and Tonks' shoulders. "And where _is_ the resplendent genius, Harry?"

George did the same on their other side, "Indeed! We'd been meaning to get her opinion on the ingredients we'd chosen for some of our new products." He shook his own back of goodies from the shop they'd just vacated.

Harry's stomach turned at the mere _thought_ of ingesting any of the foul ingredients that could be found in Slug and Jiggers, but he supposed that that was the basis of most potions anyway. _They_ certainly tasted foul enough. "I'm not sure if she'd be interested in your prank sweets, guys…" he said, remembering Fleur's reaction to Nym's abuse of the Ton-Tongue-Toffee. "But who knows," he shrugged. "You'd have to ask her yourself, but as for where Fleur is right now, she's visiting a relative of Nym's."

Several sets of curious eyes leveled on the metamorph in question, but it was Harry that continued to explain. "She's been attempting to further develop his research," he said, being intentionally vague to the nature of Alistair's craft. Harry shook his head, sending amber-streaked black locks even more askew than they already were. "To be honest with you, a lot of it goes over my head, calling Fleur a genius is no exaggeration."

Hermione appeared justifiably curious, but seemed to accept that she would be getting no more information out of Harry himself. He only prayed that the girl wouldn't pester Fleur _too_ much about her research, he knew how waspish she could be when stumped by a puzzle. They certainly had _that_ in common…

"Tell you what, Hermione, why don't you go ahead to Flourish and Blotts with Ron and _these_ two clowns—"

"—Hey!"

"—And we'll go get us all some Fortescue's while we wait." Harry already stocked up on this year's spellbooks, not to mention countless others that weren't included in the Hogwarts curriculum, and despite his own respect for knowledge, there was only so much enjoyment he could get from sitting around, waiting for Hermione to finish browsing. Especially in such a mainstream bookstore. "But do me a favor," he added, tossing her a small pouch that rattled with wizarding currency to the girl. "There's a supplementary potions text that Tonks recommended for OWL years, mind picking me up a copy?"

The metamorph nodded with a heavy sigh. "I was pants at potions too. I never woulda' gotten the NEWT for the subject if it wasn't for this baby." She conjured a pen and a scrap of paper, scribbling the name of the text in her surprisingly neat script and handing it over.

Hermione peered at the paper for a moment before nodding sharply. "No problem, and thanks, I suppose… I'll probably pick up a copy for myself."

"No such thing as a perfect potion, eh Hermione?" Ron jibed lightly, earning a elbow to the gut from the girl. But Harry was just happy to see a bit of the light returning to the boy's eyes, even at the expense of his kidney. He'd been quite lethargic since his encounter with the locket, not that Harry could blame him.

He turned to Tonks as the larger group headed off to the bookstore. "Mind if we stop by the menagerie first? Hedwig's pretty self-sufficient, but I've got a few questions about _this_ little guy." He held his wrist up to eye level, smiling lightly as the tiny head of the unnamed coral snake poked its way out of the sleeve of his overcoat.

 _§"Why not asssk 'thisss little guy,' ssspeaker!?_ "§

 _§" My apologiesss, friend, I did not mean to presssume, but instinctsss can only take you ssso far… "§_ Harry hissed back under his breath. He subconsciously glanced over his shoulder, still struggling to shake the stigma attached to the language.

Harry turned back to Tonks, frowning only to chuckle in amusement seeing her avoid his eyes, cheeks flushing lightly. "Oh, _something on your mind?"_ he purred in her ear.

Nym shoved him away through embarrassed laughter. "Bugger off, Wonderboy! Go polish your snake already!" She stomped off towards the lively storefront of the Menagerie, just visible from their location in the alley.

oooOoOoOooo

"Davis! We've got two more volcanic fudge sundaes coming up and I'm still waiting on that Fruity Frosted Wonderland! What's the hold up?"

Tracey slumped, puffing at an errant strand of dirty blonde hair that had fallen into her eyes. She'd loved how it looked when she'd chopped it short at the beginning of the summer holidays, not to mention the convenience when it came to washing and styling it, but in the months since then it had grown to the infuriating length where it was still too short to tie up in a ponytail and _just_ long enough to fall into her eyes.

A reasonable tame irritant for sure, but in the long shifts working for Fortescue, what would normally be a minor, issue was enough to leave her fuming.

Well… perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration, but how was _she_ supposed to know that the old man would be such a vicious taskmaster!? _Oh, I'll get a part-time job_ , she'd thought. _How hard could it be?_ She'd assured herself.

 _Hah!_

Tracey had long-since learned that ice cream, at least ice cream produced by master Fortescue, was _not_ a joke. She'd just finished adding the assorted fruit, each diced into a perfectly identical single centimeter cubes onto the mostly completed trio of vanilla, coconut and mint ice cream. Tracey furrowed her brow in concentration, for the finishing touch, she levitated a handful of prepared shaved ice over the colorful creation, twirling her wand in an intricate motion that set the frozen crystals spinning about like a miniature flurry.

The spell itself, like most of the techniques she'd learned during her on-site training were heavily guarded family secrets. She'd of course had to sign a magically binding non-disclosure contract before she'd even been _considered_ for hiring _._ But as she gazed upon the finished product with a satisfied grin tugging at her lips, she couldn't help but think it had all been worth it.

"One Fruity Winter Wonderland!" she called, carefully setting the animated creation on the counter for the servers to deliver to the customer. The store itself was packed to the brim. A normal occurrence for this time of the year, or so she'd been told by one of the more veteran employees.

Tracey wiped the sweat from her brow with a cloth that hung at her belt, before turning back to her workspace to start on the pair of Volcanic fudge sundaes. Fortunately for her, _that_ particular item was significantly easier to put together as it relied mostly on the in-house bakers making the molten lava cake. All _she_ had to do was top the finished product with the customer's choice of ice-cream, syrup, and sprinkles. Considering that Fortescue had detailed no alterations to the order, she gently added a scoop of vanilla, and a dash of chocolate syrup and sprinkles to both steaming bowls of cake.

"Mind taking those out yourself, Davis?" Fortescue called as he glided past her with surprising agility for a man of his age. "We're short-staffed, and I need to double-check our inventory of Himalayan chocolate in the back."

"Sure thing, Boss!" she called to the double doors as they swung shut behind him.

She cradled both bowls by hand, not trusting her ability to levitate multiple objects with any sort of precision, and made her way out to the patio where most of their clientele lounged about, enjoying the sun. Serving the customers was nothing new to her, of course. Tracey had started as a waitress before she'd, by some stroke of luck, proven her ability to recreate one of Fortescue's masterpieces.

At the time, she'd thought that she was going be fired on the spot for stealing his recipes or something, but the man had taken her on as his apprentice that very same day. The fact that he now trusted her to handle the orders on her own showed exactly how well she'd taken to the craft, and Tracey could say with confidence that she'd never looked back.

So lost was the witch in the thoughts of her humble beginnings, that Tracey completely missed the approach of the compact figure that careened into her side, and in her shock, sending both sundaes arcing through the air. Her heart leapt into her throat as her hazel eyes tracked their torturous descent, fully prepared for the implosion of shattered glass and fudgy goodness to cover the patio and customers alike.

 _But it never came…_

Tracey stood, transfixed, as the pair of bowls delicately slowed their descent, settling to a halt a mere foot away from the stone floor of the patio. Before her eyes they gradually reversed their path, settling after a few seconds into her hands that were frozen in their frantic outstretched position.

The sudden touch of the cool glass in her palms broke her out of her reverie, and she turned to face her unlikely savior.

The first thing she'd noticed was the man's extended hand. He held it palm up, as if he'd performed that little bit of heroism with but a twitch of his fingers.

 _But that couldn't be right_ …

Tracey frowned thoughtfully. The only wizard she'd seen perform such casual wandless magic was her headmaster. The man peering at her with those curiously two-toned eyes could barely pass for a graduate, let alone someone who'd amassed the decades of experience possessed by Dumbledore. His amber-streaked dark hair was styled in a tasteful disarray that just barely fell into his eyes. A sharp nose and jaw rounded off a rough, but attractive face, the kind of looks that he'd probably had to grow into. But now that he had…

 _Shit_ , his lips were moving, and Tracey had completely missed what the man had said. Thankfully, he seemed to catch onto her inattention and helpfully repeated his query.

"Hi there, we're really sorry about that. Nym here can get a bit… rambunctious in public places," he whispered conspiratorially, jade and silver eyes flashing with mirth as he dodged a swipe from the witch beside him. Why did that particular shade of green seem so familiar? Tracey was _sure_ she would have remembered a wizard like _this_.

For the first time in their encounter her gaze shifted to the man's companion, a smaller witch with a hairstyle that was shorter and possibly even more chaotic than her own. Matching electric blue irises pierced knowingly into her own, though the witch's brows _were_ tilted up apologetically.

The look at least kicked her brain into gear. "Oh, yeah… no problem, thanks for the heh... save…"

 _Nailed it._

Tracey wordlessly left the couple as they sat at one of the patio benches, delivering the two sundaes on autopilot to what looked to be a pair of Hogwarts first or second years. She made her way back to her workspace behind the counter but couldn't help but wonder why the wizard had seemed so familiar.

"Order up!" the voice of one of their waitresses called, sticking a particularly large ticket to the counter. She glanced at the list of items, noting that she'd need to toast the nuts ahead of time for the two 'Monkey Business' banana splits, before tackling the easier items. Figuring out the puzzle could wait, she had work to do.

oooOoOoOooo

"Who was that witch? You seemed to recognize her," Tonks commented idly as she lounged back in her seat, soaking in the rays of sun.

"The waitress?" Harry said, pausing for a moment. "A Slytherin from my year I think… why?"

"She was cute," she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Horndog." Harry laughed. He stretched his arms above his head, groaning as his back popped deliciously. "We've had quite a few classes together, but she didn't seem to notice me…"

"No, she didn't _recognize_ you," Nym clarified. "She _definitely_ noticed you, Wonderboy, and for good reason."

"You know what I meant!" Harry said, avoiding her challenging gaze. "Plus, I'm _quite_ satisfied with my current arrangement thank you very much." He was still getting used to earning _that_ kind of attention from girls, and if this was what he had to look forward to come the start of term, he sure had a rough year ahead of him.

Nym threaded her fingers through her electric blue hair, tinting it a slightly darker shade and lengthening it a few inches after a moment of consideration. " _Trust me,_ I am too, but that doesn't mean we can't _mix it up_ every once in a while."

Harry's eyebrows arched in disbelief at that statement, but he wasn't given a chance to respond as the rest of their friends trickled in to seat themselves at the table.

"Hey! You managed to drag Hermione out of F 'n B's in less than an hour, I'm impressed," Tonks called, earning a laugh from the Weasleys and a scowl from the girl in question.

"Only cus we ran into Malfoy and Parkison," George commented lightly. "Seems like the summer holidays've made them even more _pleasant_ that usual" George commented lightly.

"Smart," Harry nodded. "Wouldn't want to risk another aggravated assault charge."

He grinned, dodging the expected swipe from Hermione, and chuckling at the confused expressions on every other magical besides Tonks.

"We have another name for it in the wizarding world, but I can make an educated guess for what exactly it translates to." She turned to an increasingly flushing Hermione, "That sounds like a story, Ms. Granger, care to share?" She wiggled her eyebrows enticingly.

" _Well_ …"

oooOoOoOooo

No. Fucking. _Way._

Tracey pinched herself, certain that she was imagining the group of students that had joined the couple from earlier. It _had_ been a brutal ten hour shift, after all…

But no, several experimental blinks told her that her vision was perfectly functioning at the moment.

Out of context, the attractive wizard from earlier was simply another customer in the endless stream she dealt with during Fortescue's summer rush. But framed by the assorted Weasleys and _Granger_ of all people?! There was only one identity of the dark-haired stranger that would make sense… It had to be Potter—any other explanation would only be horribly coincidental.

Tracey's hazel eyes peeked through the glass display counter as the larger order she'd just completed was delivered to her classmates' table. She smothered a laugh as the Weasley twins each took a banana split for themselves. The ticket had specified identical ice cream selections, both with added pineapple, strawberries and of course Fortescue's signature melting maraschino cherries. The only disparity was that one twin seemed to prefer peanuts while the other specified almonds… _Monkey business, indeed._

"What are you looking at?"

Tracey flinched violently at the unexpected voice, her heart thrown into overdrive for the second time in barely half an hour. "Christ, Daph! You trying to give me a heart attack?" she hissed, yanking her friend down behind the counter.

She'd clearly lost track of time during her spontaneous bout of sleuthing, a glance at the wristwatch she'd pocketed while she was working told her that her shift had ended nearly minutes earlier. Tracey had told her friend to meet her out front so they could finish up some last-minute school shopping, but frankly, pursuing her current subject of interest was a far more intriguing prospect.

Daphne sighed, anxiously tugging at sleek, black strands of hair that fell well past her shoulders. "Must you always involve me…"

Tracey pouted, pulling the other girl so they crouched shoulder to shoulder. "C'mon, Daph! If I didn't you'd never leave your room…"

"I fail to see the issue," Daphne deadpanned.

Tracey gave a lopsided smile that was a mix of fondness and exasperation, knowing the girl was entirely serious with that claim. The dark-haired girl's almost crystaline violet irises, peered shyly through naturally alluring lashes. Daphne's eyes were probably the most unique aspect of her appearance, but her pouty lips and otherwise soft features made for an unreasonably attractive witch.

She was also possibly the most socially awkward girl Tracey had ever met, and most likely considered her looks a nuisance for the attention it brought her.

The irony was _sickening._

"Just _look_." Tracey insisted, directing her friend's gaze to the table filled with Gryffindors. "Even _you_ might find this interesting…"

"Gingers…"

" _Yes,"_ Tracey enthused. "But look whose sitting with them… It's bloody _Potter!"_ She yell-whispered, unable to wait for her friend to make the connection herself.

"Ah… he's taller." Daphne commented as if that was the most noticeable change that had taken place.

"Way to state the obvious, Daph. Puberty hit that boy like truck! Not to mention he got out of those rags he always wore… Maybe I should go over and thank him for earlier… I wonder who taught him wandless magic…"

"Wait… when did _that_ happen?" Daphne asked, frowning thoughtfully.

Tracey scoffed, peering over the edge of the counter once more. "Figures that you'd only be interested after I mention magic. Yeah, I nearly shattered two dishes earlier, but he totally snatched them right out of the air, not a wand in sight." She stuck a finger up as if deflecting blame, "But to be fair, it was his girlfriend's fault in the first place…"

"G- _girlfriend?_ " Daphne asked hesitantly.

What was _that_ all about, anyway? Was her gossip _really_ torturous enough to warrant that kind of expression?! She continued on regardless.

"That's the best part, see. Look at the witch over there sitting next to him. The one with the blue pixie cut… well I guess it's a bit longer than that... Weird, I coulda' sworn it was—" she trailed off, her lips quirking in thought.

"She's cute," Daphne shrugged.

"I _know_ , I totally love her style! But that's not the point, when they came in earlier, those two were together… like, _together_ together…"

"You shouldn't bother them, Tracey…"

"I wasn't just gonna _waltz_ up there," she said, affronted.

Daphne just stared; sparkling eyes unrelenting.

"I _do_ work here you, know!"

"You've been off your shift for nearly twenty minutes now, so since you _insisted_ on dragging me into the sun, don't you think we should get this shopping trip over with?"

" _Fine,_ let me grab my stuff from the back and we can go," She inched away, sneaking peeks over her shoulder as if she'd miss something juicy the minute she looked away. The double doors flapped shut behind her.

Daphne exhaled softly, relishing the brief moment of solitude. It wasn't as if she _didn't_ like spending time with Tracey, she was her best friend after all. Just the expectations that came with interacting with people in general seemed to sap her stamina like nothing else. Realistically, Tracey was the only one in her house that was stubborn enough to put up with her antics without some ulterior motive.

"Thanks! Everything was delicious!" a friendly voice spoke up, startling Daphne out of her reverie.

Her violet eyes widened at the wizard that smiled down at her. Now that he stood right in front of her, the changes that had come about in the boy who lived were even more apparent. It wasn't as if they'd ever really interacted during classes, but she'd been around him enough to recognize the physical changes. What was less easily explained was the aura that seemed to emanate around him. As if his magic had finally aligned with the various titles he'd been assigned since birth. Daphne wasn't exactly sure how to feel about that…

He placed a tray on the counter, bowls and plates nearly licked clean and neatly stacked in the center. It took her a moment to realize what he was implying.

"Oh, I'm n-not…" she trailed off, each word less audible than the last.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"…" Words once again failed her. _Typical_ …

"Well… thanks again…" He smiled, kindly ignoring how obviously uncomfortable she was, and walked back to his friends a moment later.

"You're welcome… Harry." Daphne said quietly, though with the distance between them, she'd have been surprised if he'd heard.

oooOoOoOooo

"You're meaning to tell me I'm supposed to believe that you have _no_ idea what the man has planned, _Snivelus?!"_ Sirius stood, his chair scraping audibly against the wooden floors of the dinging room. " _None at all?_ What _exactly_ do you spend all your time doing over there with your slytherin class reunion?"

Snape's dark eyes flashed dangerously under a narrowed brow, but when he answered, his tone was as calm and collected as ever. "Unlike The Order's more… _freeform_ approach to operations," he said silkily, eyeing the younger magicals in the room, "—the Dark Lord is far more selective with who he shares critical information."

"Right, with the kind of wizards that flock to the bastard, I'd be worried about getting cursed in the back too!" Sirius slapped the table, turning away and running a hand through his hair exhaustedly.

Harry sat to the left of Fleur, who had returned from her short research trip shortly after his own group had gotten back from the alley. Nym flanked his other side, all three magicals watching with less and less patience the back and forth between the two wizards.

Harry sighed audibly as the meeting was once more held up by overt taunts from Sirius, and Snape's less-than-amicable responses.

"Peace, Severus, Sirius. This is hardly the time…" Dumbledore trailed off, a thoughtful frown coming over his features. "From the information Severus has procured, it is obvious that Voldemort—"

A round of winces around the table.

"—is making overtures that seem to deviate from his previous priorities…"

"For risk of stating the obvious here…" Harry hedged, "the most immediate event is clearly the start of term, is it not? Just a few days away and suddenly there's a mission that only a select few know about?" He peered around the table seeing the various members in attendance nod with a hesitant agreement.

"It could also be misdirection, _non?"_ Fleur added, meeting his eyes.

He dipped his head in agreement. "You're right, this could all be a play on the department of mysteries. But then again…" Harry's silver-ringed irises settled on the Headmaster at the head of the table.

He was aware that Dumbledore hadn't exactly informed the rest of The Order on the specifics of why Voldemort was so persistent in his infiltration of that particular division. The 'weapon' they all thought they were defending was vague enough to feel a bit of guilt at his continued silence. But he had a feeling that his reasoning was quite a bit different from the headmaster's.

Harry'd made it quite clear what he thought of the prophecy. As far as he was concerned, anyone who'd got a shot at offing Riddle should take it no questions asked. Not that any attempt would succeed while several of his horcruxes were still in existence. Revealing the prophecy to everyone in attendance would only incite an illogical reaction from some, while others would consider him a higher priority than they already did.

He only hoped that whoever was stuck guarding that first door knew that Voldemort would eventually come in person… No one else but he and Harry could remove it after all…

"Both scenarios are well within the realm of possibility," Dumbledore said calmly, cutting through Harry's musings. "However, we can postulate until sunrise, but until the time comes, I fear we have no way of knowing."

"Well, are we just going to _wait_ for him to make a move!?" Mrs. Weasley cried helplessly. She fiddled with the hem of her sweater, eyes darting around the room as if someone would magically solve all their problems.

"Calm yourself, Molly, we will of course take precautions, not that we hadn't planned to already," the Headmaster said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "We will assign extra guard shifts to accompany those attending Hogwarts on the first, on the way to, as well as on board the Express."

"And how will we manage that, Albus?" Dodge cut in disbelievingly. "We're already stretched thin enough as it is!"

Nym finally spoke up from Harry's right. "No worries on that front," she said, leaning back and somehow balancing her massive wooden chair on two legs. "I wouldn't trust some of the Aurors on my assigned squad near _this_ place, so we'll need still need guards for the commute to Kings Cross, but after that, we'll be on the Express for the whole trip. You'll only be pulled away from your ordinary duties for that short interval."

Increasingly confident mutters went around the table until everyone's eyes returned to the wizened man still standing at the head. He nodded succinctly. "Well then, if everyone's in agreement, anyone willing to volunteer for guard detail on the first day of term, please remain behind, the rest of you are dismissed. I wish you all safe travels."

Farewells were exchanged as members stood to leave either upstairs, in the case of the older Weasleys, or to speak with the headmaster in the case of Moody and the other combat-worthy wizards. The meeting had ended on a seemingly positive note, but Harry couldn't help but feel it was simply the calm before the storm.


End file.
